Dennis Tomlinson




At the End of the Street

At the end of the street
a grey-haired woman
walks her black pig.
She sniffs the ground,
eats up a tomato,
eats and eats,
sniffs and sniffs.


A jagged plain,
battlefield of gods.
In the far dark mountains
you see a white flash
as the bus drives on.
Deep under the ice
someone is sleeping.

The Beach

White the boardwalk,
white the sky,
white the snowy beach.
Ice on the water,
broken ice on the water,
the ferry steaming
towards Sweden.


The bus heaves
through obscure, wet night.
On the dark stair
the dog whimpers and wags.
In our black bed
you wrap yourself up
beside me.





Dennis Tomlinson has had poems published in Blithe Spirit, Lunar Poetry, other small magazines and anthologies and on the Ink, Sweat and Tears website, also translations in Modern Poetry in Translation and The Wolf. He lives in London.

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