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Two Poems

Poetry
The Café Newspaper-readers outside at the sunny café: a becalmed regatta. Tall, indolent palm trees topped with shuttlecock feathers. Breast-pocket…

The Day of the Dead

Fiction
  Raul awoke weeping. He put his hands to his face and found his cheeks wet with tears. Startled, he…

On Being Watched

Fiction
  Some years ago I was sitting in a restaurant about to eat a fine meal. I had that curious…

Herne

Fiction
  In high autumn toadstools constellate the woods, red and white, yellow and brown. The leaves lie among them like…

A Mystery Murder

Fiction
  I don’t know what got into me. Why did I accept the invitation? Mortally wounded amour-propre, most likely. After…

Italophilia

Reviews
  The Pursuit of Italy, David Gilmour, Allen Lane, 447pp, £25 (hardback) Italy is glory, art, music, poetry and a…

The Life of the City

Reviews
  Jerusalem: The Biography, Simon Sebag Montefiore, Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 696pp, £25 (hardback) The striking cover of this book reproduces…

Dead Parrot

Reviews
  The Vorticists: Manifesto for a Modern World Tate Britain, 14 June – 4 September 2011 A question that must…

A Tale of Two Fairs

Reviews
  Art Antiques London, Kensington Gardens, 9 – 15 June 2011 Summer Exhibition, Royal Academy of Arts, 7 June –…

Our Barmy Bread

Features

The appeal of exotic cuisines and esoteric diets has done little to diminish bread’s status as the primary foodstuff of the Western world.

On Writing

Features

What are the perils and pleasures of writing? And in what way, and to what extent, does the writer’s self come into play?

Garvagh Election

Poetry
  When the evenings clear everything looks dirty again like a dead blackbird picked clean ploughed into the lane the…

Time Travellers

Poetry
  The sick are well, dead smiling, old are young, framed photos bloom on windowsills and walls, I am a…

Lilies

Poetry
  His tongue between her lips, she is suffocated by his breathing. Flocks of umbrellas snap shut in her as…

Severe Sweetness

Poetry
  (St. Theresa of Avila, Bernini) The woman is not perfected, she moans. She has travelled so far her body…
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