Sorry, I Was Thinking

Thoughts overlap, memories interrupt, grief sits beside the washing up, and the ordinary becomes something worth noticing.

These poems move from kitchen tables to grey skies, from childhood streets to the quiet after the house has finally settled. They pay attention to the overlooked, linger on small details, defend pigeons that no one else stops to consider, and find meaning in everything from toes to stubborn chin hairs.

There is no tidy structure here because my mind doesn't move in straight lines, it moves the way it needs to.

This is a book about how I see the world. About finding humour when things feel heavy. About making sense of the mess and holding onto small moments before they slip past.

If you have ever felt your thoughts run ahead of you, noticed what others walk past, or carried more inside than you say out loud, you may feel at home here.