senku A white line of arcs, winter waves container vessel isles __beneath the ice minnows sleep __in a tangled forest of weed dangled catkins and warm pussy willow, wishes for fishes __watching what my heart is and what it does __and trying to catch the difference muttered letters in glass until they make sense TSAFKAERB YAD LLA __do the rain prisms or no sleep __confound expectation more drifted in the void between the World Service and Open Country __on the ferry to the smaller island __all breaches are teachers seals are clowns but one still day I heard them call __let my child song van yeli bring __the fairy light to cast the sky in stone did you ever just watch as the clouds dissolve? __ten thousand years I study __sandstone ravines in your hair tresses and bubbles all churned up for the ducks play __over the wall, the sudden lochan __rippled by wildfowl he tells me how this drizzle’ll damp the dust down __roses outside our window __specks on the pane all I see caught in the curtains a yellow moth, further off a contrail wicker twist __welcome to BT answer – you’ve no messages __the tea is cold from Mount Qiyun comes the Guapian for Henry Kissinger, 1971 __he wouldn't go there __it's OK to do nothing Linda draws the covers up: we’ll pick the may B. for hawthorn brandy another day __blackbird comes closer for raisins — __keep still! snap the lomo eye to eye — now you can fly! __jumping every hedge in the street __for dares a dab of pink germoline touched between fingers and graze __I would say to him as a riddle: __is the leaf casting its shadow? frowns at his heels Old Peter still looks for his shade __logs on to eBay — __tracks The Young Ones (VGC) the mouse’s tail curls lordotic from keys to screen __bad back — could hardly walk __hello uncruel world — must fly what she did, right, was climb on get her knee wedged in — cra-aaa-cck! goes the branch __least said, soonest mended __silence spins round the kitchen towels wrapped in perforations eco-lightbulbs noses poke from crinkly paper shades __something not someone beats __in your clenched fist your curved double in his eyes — nerves quiver, stretched paws __grey breath of haar __licks against the window flickers a breeze through the reeds, rushes — Ivan’s childhood __no, rather: shutter drawn __smut flicks under the boughs torn leaves, beaver shots tug about in the breeze __something about that bush __ain't right — rosemary pink meat hisses in the oil, the shaman switches and spits a circle on the floor __"high blue, dry blue", pulse __the drums of autumn thud — Ignatz’s brick thud — a fallin’ leaf — Krazy Kat’s serenade . . . __running time 2:15 minutes __and love's labor lost pegged curtains hide the set, raffle prizes stuck with a ticket wait for the intermission __switch and twitch high in the wild plum thicket __bear cub, not quite ripe colouring in the wood— block — a kid’s touch, a new name, Manji __water hugs the plughole __fragments dragged there oatcake isles with butter, marmalade — below a grey tide line sog to silt, a few curly hairs __aus den händen der kastanienblätter __fallen die fingerabdrücke des baums __ from the hands of the chestnut-leaves __the fingerprints of the trees are falling twoers, fivers, eleveners, from spikes to shine short lives, embalmed in heat, sour vinegar __now we take slow steps, __the stick's not for decoration she flicks her tail — turn for home then you’ll maybe get a trot __anamorphosis explains it: __a tortoiseshell comb tort tongue juice strain through pulp broke tooth gap __silver coin white gem __tear stained cheeks and smiles topple fairies in pink boas and shiny leather — the float slips a gear __I am being eyed by a feral cat __and there’s something too mild about the day idling in Le Chat Noir — pousse l’amour, the dreamy fish, Satie’s new love song for his dog __waiting for the notes to fall: __stones in a well, 100 umbrellas, pear-shaped space freezy chocolate molehills splayed into scatter patterns scuffed by the lead runners of the sled __The Cheviots in the distance __cleaner spraying polish on the clean desk squeak goes the swivel, squeak, squeak, squeak, — the servers down again __burnished bowl resonating __with the sound of silence Big Ben chimes on the trannie downstairs — upstairs . . . Big Ben chimes on the digital __for an ounce of this, a gram — __a moment of sun on the skin outside in — cancer, what i’ve waited for year after year __a rescued patchwork — __a long walk across the bridge the skeleton of a bus, struts lack over winter pink — the shoppers will be home by Christmas __you fly away I stay __two open wounds clown’s eyes shadow-lined, cross-stitched __twilight starlings __dancing in Aberdeen the dark cloud shrieks crack! crack! of a starter gun __joy at the break of dawn __a new day falls into place names in all the windows — stamp comes down — envelope — name, stamp comes down __I will return, my love, to feel __that stickiness still on your tongue in the fruit van there’s a row of red cellophane toffee apples rotten to the core __everything fine fucked up — chorister-white, halibut; __burnt butter and bacon flick past fashion, recipes to the stars — broaden your horizons __hot leather emergency __on the other side of the world at her place the remote's called the conch __memories of pole dancing __the blinds slip down quickly trade glazed eyes so far away so alone so lonely __one day I will sail away from here __into the dark peace of space the canvas holds a pool of water to see us through __the train steals south __her body on my mind 2 hour delay by the track a blue bag — a life in parts __sparks, grease on his hands __those fireworks spilt slits of lights everyone ooohhhs the widest arcs __— sleepers slippery __after thin rain come tears for a lover an old scar, a new scar pale on each shoulder __finger shapes parting __shadowy dances a black rabbit flickers in flames — take down those ears I need hands to hold __burrows' scratched red soil __the umbrella unneeded now Let the rain fall — dab the damp cotton weak lips still suck on __today the hill's veiled in mist __from the top here will be too a pile of stone read in lichen’s — arboreal papules we once dreamed to make a fortune from __coarse grain of stone, the feel of the unfinished __under the fingertips; so much art is a pause in not being still in the pillow — a shallow impression & smell of sick __breath taken away __by the daffodil wind awake either side of alone — a vase of big yellows, a tea cup of minature yellows __hail storms in April __first signs of blossom balls of ripe cherries — sea salt tinty finger tips stray grains irk the sheets __full-bellied tack by Fingal's neuk __puffin-bright spinnaker you’ve to feel it, right — put out too much and you’ll flip her over __Gotham Pier for The Floating World __Recklessly seasoned Wok departs 13:00 snaky dragons aside don’t we all take offence at some shape of noodle? __spent afternoon in crazy traffic __beseech the tea bag for some taste corrugated burdock, dry sticks, and a packet of quavers selected for the swan’s nest

senku index of contributors Alec Finlay; Maris; AF; Linda France; AF; Peter Manson; AF; Paul Rubie; AF; Holly Clay; AF; Andrew Schelling; AF; Elizabeth Burns; AF; Chris Wood; AF; Jeremy Over; AF; Gerry Loose; AF; Rachel Knowles; AF; Alex Hodby; AF; Toby Martinez; AF; Alistair Peebles; AF; Gregory O’Brien; Lesley Mountain; AF; John Glenday; AF; Bill Duncan; AF; Jorn Ebner; AF; John Cayley; AF; Tito; AF;; Harry Gilonis; AF; Caitlin DeSilvey; AF; Eileen Bonner; AF; Arne Rautenberg, translated by Ken Cockburn; AF; Jayne Wilding; AF; Elizabeth James; AF; Ruth Sheldon; AF; Gabriel Rosenstock; AF; Roderick Watson; AF; Eileen Ridley; AF; Caroline Leinster; AF; Jacob Polley; AF; Clara May Warden; AF; Werner Reichhold; AF; Anne-Marie Culhane; AF; Jane Reichhold; AF; Tom Pow; AF; Jen Hadfield; AF; Gavin Wade; AF; Rachael Ogden; AF; Suhayl Saadi; AF; Subhadassi; AF; Gerrie fellows, AF; Bob Clay; AF; Tom Shakespeare; AF; Jonathan Young; AF; Ken Cockburn; AF; Michael Heller; AF; Paul Conneally; AF; Norman Bissell; AF; William G. Bonar; AF; Tom Richardson; AF; Erni Bär; AF