2 smoked mackerel fillets

2 smoked mackerel fillets, in one vacuumed sealed plastic wrapping, seemed to sum up their marriage. They had purchased them on the Monday, with plans to serve them for breakfast the following day. Only, that morning came, and she gave them a peck on the cheek and said ‘I’m in a hurry. I’ll grab something from the shop’

This had become an ingrained routine. If it wasn’t a hurry she was in, it was an early start to fit in a gym session before going into the office.

The 2 smoked mackerel fillets, in one vacuumed sealed plastic wrapping, reached their expiry date. She couldn’t stomach them and they both loathed fish.


the shopping centre is being assembled -
filled with brands -
restaurants and chain stores
that will not feed or clothe -
nor welcome 
the rough sleepers 
that are nestled in the shop doorways 
around this building 

‘they’re all addicts’
‘they make more money in a day than we do in a week’

they haven’t anywhere to call home 

we all have our vices 
yours you are able 
to hide behind 
front door 

Wrote this during NANOWRIMO a year, 2 years ago maybe? Not sure about the last lines. But the sentiment remains.

If you are able to Shelter Centrepoint and Crisis are charities that help people who are struggling and welcome donations.

for those like me

it is a grotto 
in duty free 
Christmas songs 
and festive decorations 
just cover extortionate 

still shut shop fronts
selling all of the holiday paraphernalia  
for those i like to think 
like me 

with memories like a sieve 

this is a poem from a new book of travel poetry I have been working on. I wrote this in 2019? Back when we could travel freely. I cut this poem out because I don’t like it. Not sure where the Christmas part has come from either because I usually travel in the late Summer. Too early for that Season. But I suppose in Duty Free it does feel like time becomes irrelevant. Because Duty Free is basically that bit in-between arriving and leaving. That could have been what I was trying to say in this poem.