Tina needs a deadline or she spins out, Tina says, disassociating to fight off dizziness. She’s a bit like 90s cartoon Tasmanian Devil Taz. Remember Taz? I ask Tina if she remembers Taz. Taz. I do, she says and she stops twirling for a moment; what do you think he’s doing right now? I’m not sure what to say to that so I arrange pillows around the room and prepare to announce an entirely arbitrary date.
Ewen is a Northern Irish poet who lives in England with two dogs, a tortoise and lots of self-doubt; on a given day, any or all of these can be snapping at his heels. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in HAD, Bridge Eight, Poetry Scotland, Maudlin House, Belfast Review and elsewhere.