Author Archives: aggiegoatmother

Bad examples and other stories

Posted on April 7, 2020 by aggiegoatmother

Well, well! Brexit diary number three. It’s April not March because the great ennui has taken hold of me and the insanity has been evolving at such a pace that my scrambled thoughts have only just found a moment to … Continue reading →

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Leap into fatalities, fatalism and fecundity

Posted on March 3, 2020 by aggiegoatmother

February 29th has been a leap of faith day, and faith has proved unwarranted. One month into Brexit, Home Office chief Sir Philip Rutnam has declined the quiet payoff he was offered to get out of the way of our modern-day … Continue reading →

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In translation

Posted on February 28, 2020 by aggiegoatmother

I read ‘postman’ from your jacket, though I misbelieve your stolen someone, taken as a shield to cover, with stiff sufficiency, your flush faced ambiguity of soul. And I think denial, sinking in. Into the volume of your coat, your … Continue reading →

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Where my cat lived

Posted on February 25, 2020 by aggiegoatmother

This morning, yet again, I explore the world in which my cat lived.   Stopping there with all its ambiguity, I carefully place my full stop after toying with other endings, where the syntax of explaining repeats all my vacillating … Continue reading →

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And when the clock strikes eleven

Posted on January 30, 2020 by aggiegoatmother

  And when the clock strikes eleven, all this magic will be undone, Cinderella. Your coach will once again become a pumpkin, your coachmen mice, your beautiful dress will crumble to tatters.   Though when my country slips out of … Continue reading →

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Shepherd by night – Reuben

Posted on August 6, 2017 by aggiegoatmother

Skant left of Reuben and it’s a relief A fishbone of picked ribs and the horned Luciferan skull   I feel the guilt of not doing everything Everything I could for him if Had time not been pressing And school … Continue reading →

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Seven tennis balls, a float, a mop and an alligator – part two

Posted on September 8, 2014 by aggiegoatmother

Days slip into predictability. The ghost of the hurricane finally erodes at the summer’s warmth, making chill mornings slow to warm. Occasionally the rain looks to set into unrelentingly grey, but the strong westerly wind clears each raincloud, storm or … Continue reading →

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Seven tennis balls, a float, a mop and an alligator – part one

Posted on September 2, 2014 by aggiegoatmother

Scene setting – To go home by kayak – that was our inspiration. The tantalizing knowledge that it was possible to connect Hardwick on the Thames and Bristol by boat, padding over the chalk hills betwixt, had fascinated me for … Continue reading →

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Wasteland

Posted on February 19, 2014 by aggiegoatmother

Old age is like a wasteland. A life, once so busy, fallen into uselessness, strewn about with pieces of broken memory.   I don’t mind being old. I have lived the fullest life, but I mind the wasteland; you never … Continue reading →

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Dust and heat, dust and heat

Posted on July 22, 2013 by aggiegoatmother

My friend dies of cancer during lambing time. I take his place in the lambing shed, disentangling the limbs of in-utero twins whilst his mutant cells poisoned him and every night he says, “I want to go home.” It was … Continue reading →

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