Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

There is no engagement ring

Love letters in a cardboard box

Fights over a will

Hidden bank details

A catalogue on how to live your life

Suggested bucket list.

It’s another anxiety dream.

In the dead hours.

I had to drive,

up Blaydon Bank,

aiming for some kind of resolution

past the Turkish barbers;

‘The Crispy Cod,’

with enough chips for the street.

In these early mornings

there’s no need to avoid the sun slam

veering to the left.

Salvation is not my goal,

something ordinary will do.

I am a pub go-er but have not been,

I’m the missing face in the bar’s mirror.

The empty seat at the match.

Menu left unread.

We walk most days and say, ‘hello’ to couples

and their look-alike sniffing dogs.

We all keep our distance,

remember when B.O. was a problem?

We clapped here at our back doors.

Spoke to silent strangers,

who shuffled away without a backward glance.

Sometimes civility ruled and we all but curtsy:

in days without names

in days without names

in days without names.