Poetry

Planet of the Apes

Planet of the Apes When the sky turns bruised‑purple and the trees begin to speak, the colonies of primates have found a new world to seek. A colourless dawn, the quarry

Eaten

Eaten In a quiet kitchen, at the bend of a cobbled street, the air is damp with crumbs and evening’s first retreat. A platter waits, cold as dawn, in the corner of the

Smell

Ode to the Ordinary Whiff The early morning in a sleepy English town sidles on my tongue with a scent of damp stone, the dampness of the ancient oak, the chalky dust below, a

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? In the dim-lit living room of suburban England the scent of wet wool and burnt tea clings to the walls, and on the back‑back sofa, those torn‑up people

Schindler's List

Schindler’s List In the hushed streets of Bielsko‑Biała, the cold wind howled, and a man with a sharp cigarro traced a list across a page. Names like ink‑ed spears, a ghostly line of

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