These poems were written by my brother who died on the 22nd April 1977. He was wrapped up in the psychiatric system and had been on medication for several years. One day just before his death he asked me the question “Do you think psychiatric medication works?” I always being honest with him said “No!”. […]


  What legacy did Imelda leave? Hording shoes like baby digits The upping of a posture High heeled to legs at the top And toes as red as crimson Slide into slippers that feed foot balm Tripping over a staircase made of slithery soles Ankle straps made of a misrepresented blossoming Sensible professorship’s happy feet […]