By Roger Cornish She lay in her damp cavern. NoThrone or gowns. The workers hadStripped her of her wings. She is filled with enough spermTo lock her... Continue reading
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All posts by Roger Cornish
By Roger Cornish They’ve about emptied yaout now boy A thousand bicyclesa robbed safehundreds of shopping trolleysthe odd suicide You flow onno more factory dye and chemicalstheCoal’s... Continue reading
By Roger Cornish They pulled a wallDown – a while agoThe times they were aChanging The provident manStopped coming onFridaysYou didn’t need money – just a card... Continue reading
By Roger Cornish Jack was fuming.He’d simply had enough. He said: “They come over here.They come over here.” “Who comes over here, Jack?” “Thems boat people,thems boat... Continue reading
Roger Cornish worked as a Coal Miner for 23 years. Roger writes about desire, camaraderie, grief, class, faith lost and faith of a different kind found. Here... Continue reading