Containing one of my favourite ending lines, this is a poem that attempts to explore tragedy in a new way. From a personal level, with a bedroom intimacy about it. I’m waving in radiation poisoning, nightmares, love and dinosaurs like a fragile tapestry made of hair. (previously published in the journal 'Dotdotdash')
Using the structure of a translator’s manual, this poem charts the progression of a family relationship, from the birth of a child, through adolescence and to the final conflict at Christmas. A longer poem than typical, it’s kept engaging through a unique form and childlike perspective.
This novel centres around the necessity for control of population growth in the future. The method of control will be through forced sterilisation coming from modified drinking water, combined with assessment from prospective parents before they are provided with the antidote. In order to have a child in the world of 'The Small Man', you have to pass an assessment. This helps vet prospective parents and means that those who have kids will ideally be much better parents. The criteria are: economic factors employment genetic suitability between the couple emotional/ mental state and couple’s longevity And it is these criteria that make up the framework of my novel. My narrator is one such couple assessor. It is through him that we get an understanding of the world. He is typically intelligent but not very self-aware, and it is his Fridge that has to act as a moral compass for him. I aim for my writing to be exploring complex themes but be accessible at the same time. There is also an undercurrent of beauty that I hope to serve as a counterpoint to the setting of slight dystopia.