the poetry that matters


P.A.Levy lives in the heart of the English countryside.  He has been published both in print and online. Additional work will be in forthcoming issues of A cappella Zoo, Cause and Effect, and Decanto amongst others.  His website: the Clueless Collective is developing a growing following.

Sainsbury Centre of Visual Arts



five wentways > uea

[glass door] [glass lift] or



to annette with no arms

can’t point to where the

                                                                (driftwood > beach at southwold)

nailed together things hang

broken boat saints



a life in colour                   



tea and egg sandwich

[glass wall][glass wall]can’t get out[glass wall][glass wall]


modern art

can scramble

the brain













>location: hostname  > = domain

>path= Options >Options[Key]


>function  >welcome home kiss

>source  >your lips/hugs/to be in your arms>function=wanted


body:to accept




body:misalign[Side Step]

body:reject[Access Denied]


command+control  > JUST GO!


 <!-- Space  loc=TEAR noad -->


var a=arguments,al=a.length;



>insert  >insert image

pre,code{monospace;*face-wrong face:100%;}


var a=arguments,al=a.length;



wrong face says:

the girl with blonde hair

motel smell

lies about working late

(out drinking with yer mates)


>insert  >insert image  >with her jpeg1


thrill seeking

buttons undone

thrilled sigh

to talk, dirty talk with tart lipstick

in the curl of cigarette smoke


<meta http-equiv="Content-Type">


wrong face says:



>insert  >insert image  > her again jpeg2


with sweat stink and sleaze grime                                             

and other telltale                                                                             

signs of unsentimental stains

that will need to be washed at sixty degrees.


>direction:away;  >command  >PLEASE GO


>select exit  >exit

>select quit  >quit











Man Shed




the smell of soil

and damp Saturday afternoons

with the sound of rain

drumming on the roof


bluebottle carcasses

dangle in webs

above long protacted




warming hands

around a mug of tea

sitting back

into an old canvass deckchair

the pauses extend


beyond sweet pea



to solving the energy crisis

then scoring the winning goal

at Wembley

dating a pop princess

writing a book


creeking in the wooden frame



like sleeping bulbs


into compost


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