1974 jason sits for hours blonde hair curtaining his downturned face eyes fixed on the pale refracted bait intended for the eel he alone believes is there
karmic agony in tromso under northern lights, and oil of cloves in the caves of lascaux. bloody extractions in my forties then at fifty-three, my mouth half empty, the pain ceased and I wondered, have I paid in teeth?
Steve Shepherd writes poems and takes photographs. He used to make radio programmes, mostly jazz.