Part 24: Socks on the floor

February 6, 2022 AA Moore 0

Now we’re open for business, the gateway to jarring, juddering noise. A racket in a straightjacket. A hullabaloo. Curved south like a tragedy mask. Such excessive theatre! Reminiscent of your first break up from your first love, so laboured in retrospect. Arms flap and twist. Fists beat and pull. Fingers read more


Part 23: Frank in Wonderland

December 23, 2021 AA Moore 0

The sun attempts to rise while Frank addresses the squash bottles, summoning the troops, by flavoured rank – Orange, Lemon and Lime, Summer Fruits – then as an assembly. They obediently soak his daily pep-talk into their juices, take the buzzing babbles and animated cap taps dutifully into their days read more


Part 22: London, I love you.

November 28, 2021 AA Moore 0

“There!” Frank jabs the blue, sketches the lofty towers with a pressed finger; “Oh!” Outside the soaring constructions of Canary Wharf whip past, rubbing palms and chafing council flat views. Low-lying stars, clustered light years away from kitchenette thirty-centimetre sinks. Spangled dreams where Columbians parade, fired-up and fuelled-on then burnt read more


Part 21: Out and About

October 5, 2021 AA Moore 0

She gnaws the sappy goo about in her cheek cavities with excessive vigour. “Where’s the after party?” fixing us with lengthy-lashes. One raised, cropped eyebrow. “WE HAVE CHILDREN!” Clifford blurts, loudly out of no-where, causing us both to spring back, twitchy. As well as being factually incorrect, this is also read more


Part 20: Kitchen Raving and Misbehaving

July 14, 2021 AA Moore 0

He clasps the grenade high, for predetermined, maximum impact he has chosen his yoghurt. The upper hand, quite literally. A cut of fish finger goes in, a few taunting chews then escapes down, under his smirk. A little chuckle – “UH-OH”. My mouth spasms but no retort, my eyes scream- read more


Part 19: Hotheads and Snotbots

May 17, 2021 AA Moore 0

I start here with blue spray, flickering silently up black brick and falling on the nose of a curious parker, yanking the curtains as he leans from his top window, hungry for a bit of midnight theatre on the Neighbourhood Watch. Tired and locked-down, craving some of that community action, read more


Part 18: Running into One

April 10, 2021 AA Moore 0

Ancient bulbs poke and nudge softened dirt, warmed by the foundations of a first heat, buried in snow and forgotten, way back when in a prehistoric stage of life. These circles and phases are born and die, the calendar a flip book, as Frank’s development rapidly charges forward. One week read more


Part 17: The World According to Frank (at 10 months)

March 1, 2021 AA Moore 0

The dub siren resonates and everything explodes illuminate like Christmas, a blinking spaceship. Daddy is always pointing out in films and on TV the use of mundane sound equipment for NASA-style dial-and-knob contraptions. Top-level secret spy apparatus, the gear running the whole operation back at HQ. That’s what it looks read more


Part 16: I didn’t choose mum life, mum life chose me

February 7, 2021 AA Moore 0

Cotton fleece drifts across a blanket of newly cut green, Easter blue above and below he floats so you cannot see his legs. I climb rapidly to pitches only bats can hear, shriek like a crazy lady, hysterical squawking and frantic scrabbling for long-lost marbles. It’s a fuse-lit hormonal reaction, read more


Part 15: Adventures of Mumbot & Beanbot

January 22, 2021 AA Moore 0

Life had begun to open out an inch, to climb sluggishly from canon-deep sofa grooves, wriggle gracelessly from firm-set arse prints and detour from the jaded triangle of fridge to kettle to TV, the X almost scratched cleanly from the PlayStation remote. On Monday 19th October I drove to meet read more


Part 14: When we going Out Out?

October 14, 2020 AA Moore 0

Concrete crumbs trickle down shady beams, down tag-licked wobbly pillars, down jelly legs, rendered catanionic by deep, dark bass frequencies that rattle an echo in the skull and continue to scatter brain cells five days after. In amongst the peeling paint and pitch-black fire escapes they dance to hard, industrial read more


Part 12: He joined the party in unprecedented times

August 16, 2020 AA Moore 0

In the afternoon we snooze inside a barricade of cool patio shade, a solid no-neck bouncer safeguarding Frank from the wavy heat. Like two cats curled, spooning toasty fur that has retained the sun, dreaming of long, lazy days. Days that meld and scramble in fact and order. Reggae floats read more


Part 11: When Alice met Frank

June 29, 2020 AA Moore 0

The hospital bag trickled its entrails across the carpet, a moat surrounding a citadel of snacks that had conquered the coffee table, a fortress of sweets and peanuts, turrets of rice cakes, protein bars, raisins – all the items that had been packed and not eaten. The plastic changing mat read more


Part 10: And Then There Were Three…

June 11, 2020 AA Moore 0

Sometime inside the early hours, in the cool, still blackness of expectant bedroom walls, it was there. As if in a dream, unable to pin down the start, an ache was rolling about inside my belly, lurching onwards and reversing in waves. Not knowing how long since the moonlit paint read more


Part 8: We were together. I forget the rest.

March 1, 2020 AA Moore 0

Lying dormant, hibernating from the frostiness outside, a sofa slow cooker gently simmering away, wrapped up in a TV glow and feeling those now familiar belly rumbles, a bubbling hot pot cuisine. “You’ll know when you feel him,” I’d been told, but these miniature suds and somersaults hadn’t felt like read more


Part 7: Gender Reveal

December 30, 2019 AA Moore 0

“And you wanted to know the gender?” The sonographer asked coolly, an afterthought, as she finished calculating every inch of Nugget and I replied with a faux-casual “Aha”, the only air my seized-up breath could push out, held in expectancy. It was always a given we would find out the read more


Part 6: Everything Changes

December 19, 2019 AA Moore 0

Tugging unsteadily at his t-shirt sleeve, shifting awkwardly inside the gaze of several parental eyes, the tiny boy with the sandy scruff starts to sing. A miniature chorus collects about him, swaying within a spell of tunefully high, pre-dropped voices;    “There’s a new life in front of my face, read more


Part 5: When We Saw You

December 8, 2019 AA Moore 0

Gritty, murky flecks dispersed and stuck on gloss, bouncing synthetic hospital light with every curl, as her decorated nails traced the sketchy outline of an alien form. Hunched low and gawking, woman and man stopped in time, transfixed by three black and white prints. A girl again, pouring over a read more


Part 3: Carnival Mourning

November 13, 2019 AA Moore 0

Anticipation woke me early, my heart banging rapidly-out a reggae beat, jam-packed jots of shuddering low-end frequency licking open my eyes. Skanking figures dissolved from the night time dance into the day, a splash of Wray and Nephews remaining like a wet dream. Carnival morning is better than Christmas morning. read more


Part 2: In a tent, under a lorry, feeling like A King

November 3, 2019 AA Moore 0

In the pause, that silence that followed, our fridge stood humming innocently between us, brightly decorated with the alphabet, a jumble of words sprayed head to toe like the multi-coloured yawns of several poets. The slightly charring smell of fish, mixing in the evening air, made me almost lean against read more


Part 1: Bun that Baby Talk in the Oven

October 24, 2019 AA Moore 0

The BBQ crackled out, as the heaped plates of food were left lounging in the sun, free game for the wasps who instead reclined lazy and drunk under rum cups. In the afternoon-long-shade and full satisfaction, the conversation turned, as it always did with this particular group of girls, to read more


The First Time (2)

May 2, 2019 AA Moore 0

“Are you looking for an arrangement? Would you care for another cocktail?” Air caught inside the two with the same intonation, some American inflection and a smile inside each syllable. He drained the flute, tipping the glittery, syrupy sap down the gullet. The waiter materialised for the re-fill, poured, nodded, read more


The First Time (1)

April 2, 2019 AA Moore 0

It was in the Clapham Grand, on a floor like treacle. Just a scalp with matted brunette sweat, stuck across his eyelids. He was a disembodied cranium bobbing on a ball pit of gelled and slicked-back cruisers. That one. He was just a forehead on a dance floor. “That one,” read more


Burn One Down

February 28, 2019 AA Moore 0

Leaves fall, drop from naked arms, sprout tiny lime and avocado buds full bloom and crinkle into fire again and shit, it’s been a year.   I should have come sooner.   Remember Uncle Dave’s funeral, you attempting to get your eyes dry in the cold, I tried to hold read more


Hear Me

December 12, 2018 AA Moore 0

My only company is the questions resting between my fingers and the keys, alphabet shadows Over-Thought WITH CAPS Is this too personal? And the killer, who cares? After a decade of swagger and strut, “stories” dressed-up in costume but barely hidden between the lines, A tool I use to be read more


Carny Casualty

August 29, 2018 AA Moore 0

A braided beauty in aztec-patterned high-top shoes, reverses back against a boy in blue.  Daggering to the bump of sound system bass, She leans too far forward and topples on her face. She’s a five-star carny casualty. Six tiny-looking girls inhale matching blue balloons, A collective breath is taken until read more


Lidl (Shepherds Bush)

June 1, 2018 AA Moore 0

You appear on my front step with a box of food in your arms, smuggled rations, you check your blind spot to see if you were followed. A red face, dressed in your army coat, you’ve been at war. Left years ago, with the promise of fixing fajitas, came back read more


weeeirdos Rave, Berlin, 26/05/2018

May 30, 2018 AA Moore 0

The art space, a lonely pin, buried deep inside a deserted retail park. Techno, obviously. And Weirdos, self-proclaimed and exquisitely smiley, compared to the sauer-faced doorman we had encountered the day before at Ohm. The party was eight floors up, at the top of an apartment block and the moon read more



April 1, 2018 AA Moore 0

This is my home everytime I roam she pulls me back like a jealous bitch an itch in my fibre. Thirty-somethings move away I’ll stay. She’ll financially cripple me triple me in debt. Never forget a decade of secrets hidden in these seams Guardian of my dreams South to East read more


Don’t Speak

March 26, 2018 AA Moore 0

  A face peeled back, skinned, unwrapped, those bare minted polos. Hearts hacked out and filled with acid, Sucked out like Rolos.   Drenched walls of an Icelandic box, dug deep inside snow drifts. On a parallel planet of frost, their reality shifts.   Disappearing, waning, gone, nothing to touch. read more


Hang the DJ

March 7, 2018 AA Moore 0

Between the black T. Shirt beard scratchers, and the iTunes shufflers, stands the DJ. He’s in the firing line of well-oiled mouths loosened by a couple of tequilas.  The crucial spot to have his nuts grabbed, ears burned. Third-person agony aunt, emotional punch bag. He’s caining the rider beers, there read more



February 15, 2018 AA Moore 0

  If you just had confidence you’d be… he uses his hands to illustrate a bomb exploding, Hiroshima between palms. I feel, eyes full of smoke, just another particle of self, eroding, giving additional ammo to my internal voice. It’s the word just that loiters, downloading every memory we have read more


Bus Stop on Uxbridge Road

January 22, 2018 AA Moore 0

  Wot you call it? Urban? Each night here there’s a show, Man’s on … he’s gonna get that money he’s owed, Every night a different fight, at the bus stop on Uxbridge Road. Blue northern lights, blinded by, sparked-up and glowed against flammable cladding. 2-step? Newsagent bloke, built like read more


Things I’ve Tried To Be Happy

December 7, 2017 AA Moore 0

  Chasing the snowy cotton tail, Rambling the Indian travel trail, Fucking the bearded sexy male, Consuming the vegan super kale.   Winning the mega-bucks client, Acting-out tall like a giant, Fitting-in the system compliant, Railing against it defiant.   Toning the belly thin, Guzzling down the gin, Sleeping skin read more


disappear here

November 2, 2017 AA Moore 0

Dig your nails right in, fizzy cola top, carrying a sheep on your head, old style, like a shepherd from the bible innit? He’s grinning super-cute and wide, looks like an adolescent Michael Jackson with that mane, cotton wool cloud full of storms, dig your nails right in girls, don’t read more


For my DJ friend

October 2, 2017 AA Moore 0

  This one doesn’t plug-in the mains, must adapt to fit the mould, Not as straight-forward as the rest, not the connector you were sold. Mad intensity because he knows it, you can’t ignore the sound, LOUDER and it will find you, on the commuter belt of the underground.   read more


What We Say

September 15, 2017 AA Moore 0

He said that you hadn’t been sleeping, You said you’d gone to the doctor to get some sleeping pills. He said that an old Indian man had told you the balance was off inside your body and that you cried, You said, that guy was on drugs. He said you’re read more


Day Interrupted

August 29, 2017 AA Moore 0

Margaritas for breakfast, ordered by the pitcher load to dull the mild hangover that was chipping away at my grey matter. “It’s a Marathon Monday tradition”, I was told, as I slugged it down with one beefy firewood fajita and the Everest pile of sweet potato fries. The window seats read more


Midnight in Tesco

August 13, 2017 AA Moore 0

Ribena Fingering the box, Ribena dents in a corner with her nail. The Chemist doesn’t run 24 hours so, hair piled, she shoves the compressed cardboard inside her coat and moves her slippers like cross country skis past the skeleton in blue performing the midnight wash. He exhales a low read more


Once upon a time in a Dog Cafe in Korea…

July 29, 2017 AA Moore 0

It wasn’t like he couldn’t remember. Thick grey that hung inches from his nose, stroked the pavement so there were no edges, the giant ball sinking into a sea of it. Coloured like the one they used to bounce across tarmac and never let him at, he’d never quite catch read more


What is an “Artist”?

July 4, 2017 AA Moore 0

Dishoom on a sunlit Sunday, chewing hefty squares of paneer tikka soaked in “super-hot” orange sauce cooled by limes. My extra-long (as they’d say in India) non-writer friend takes a slurp of mango lassie and gets a fennel seed stuck in his top teeth. Sucking it out he announces, “If read more


Sleeper to Hampi

June 30, 2017 AA Moore 0

The peppercorns of his eyes swell, devouring the egg whites around them. He’s shaking, white-like-a-chicken and overweight. His jellied arms wobble in American cooking-fat and jam. “They’re eating people alive in there.” He lurches for the kiosk. “What you got?” The shy woman blinks three times too many. “Dahl Shrimaan.” read more


Annie, Dee & Me

June 10, 2017 AA Moore 0

Her lungs fill up as she physically expands across the yellow line, her presence widening, pushing the tiny bits of uninhabited air to bend inside the corners of the tunnel, the downwards curl inside her mouth. Sir, mind the gap, Sir step away from the doors. The man with the read more


The Pricing Out

May 25, 2017 AA Moore 0

Fourteen Leonard Street. Fourteen. Silicon. A grey tinge, a shine like rainwater, a reflective blue from the high windows that flanked all three hundred and sixty round. A tin foil Ferris Wheel, a merry-go-round of shofer-driven electric. Round and round, it made her dizzy, the height of it. Black taxi’s read more



May 8, 2017 AA Moore 0

You ever hung over the edge? Over the edge so completely, like you might fall off? He’d woken me up with an illuminate burn. Right inside the retina. Searing out my dreams. Warm dreams of being at home where the air wasn’t sticky and didn’t sting. He hung-on like the read more



April 16, 2017 AA Moore 0

It was a Sunday. The type of Sunday where broken limbs snapped themselves. Where the only light was Netflix’s, flickering like a vacant picture show against the blank canvas of a soul. Where I was head fucked, lips shredded, egging on death to be impending. The type of Sunday where read more


London Internal

March 7, 2017 AA Moore 0

Having spent nearly a decade of my life living in London, it seems to me that London is more about the internal self than the external place. When I am feeling on top of the world, confident and beautiful London has laid itself before me like a theme park after read more


Musings from Cambodia

November 7, 2016 AA Moore 0

Delicate wings, dragonflies shape blue and black cut-outs, butterfly patterns, hovering, hundreds to electric piano house, in the morning Sihanoukville daze. “To see the monks you say?” That smile breeds adventure, trekking to the Wat and leaving at dusk when all the English words have sprawled themselves across the sky read more


Travelling to Cambodia

October 6, 2016 AA Moore 0

Writing is my freedom. From October 21st I will be residing in Phnom Penh, getting high off the energy of Cambodian children and falling in love in front of golden Buddhas. I’m excited to start my next project from SE Asia. Watch this space. Stay free.


808 as f-

September 7, 2016 AA Moore 0

What happens at the festival, stays at the festival. And for good reason. “808 as f-” is a story told in installments, fragments and differing styles. Gradually adventures unfold inside this magical playground, love is found and lost, where music is the ultimate high. For the 2016 UK festival season.



September 1, 2016 AA Moore 0

Coming Down – Time is a tricky fuck. An illusion, crawling when you plead with it to skip, hurtling when you scream at it to saunter. The End is here. But it snuck up, Grandmother’s footsteps snapping legs. It crept up from nowhere with its dark paws and its gravity, read more



August 25, 2016 AA Moore 0

The Bigger the Hair the more I want You – Strawberry blonde. Fundamentally ginger in a certain light. Elbow length. A waterfall. Curls that easily wound tight around the fingers. Ringlets. Juliet Coleman. Fucking Juliet. Sweet and sugary, here on her European summer of self-discovery. American. Had “like never really read more

Festival sleep


August 17, 2016 AA Moore 0

Festival Dreaming –I slipped into hallucinating, where she left me, lying on the grass. I don’t remember my eyes shutting or the exact moment the real fused with the unreal or when my clothes turned a stunning turquoise cobalt like the ocean. The pink and orange flags continued to ripple read more

Roskilde 1


August 8, 2016 AA Moore 0

Couples Dance – Hot grass flattened from a couple’s embrace clingy they fit like serrated pieces of broken smuggled-in Havana Club that the earth has swallowed and caked the sides of a mirror image one half of a heart they gulp and swig at each other’s tongues drown in sticky read more

Glasto FLAGS


August 1, 2016 AA Moore 0

Date Interrupted – “Pleeeeeease man, don’t be a pussy, okay?” A viper hiss shot out of my mouth and into the emergency mobile, a startlingly low and desperate frequency forced from my throat. It’d rung ten separate times, off the hook, vibrating my leg, tightening up my chub rub, until read more

Blur image


July 26, 2016 AA Moore 0

Ben’s Poem – Wanna beer? Burning sun licks your salty eyeballs raw, jaw aches in the harsh sting of – but you’re wrong, this light’s not even strong, it’s late in the day – but fuuuuuuuuck it hurts anyway! Drum, drum, drum, dumb you blink, limbs crawl phantom-like around, feeling read more

Eyes festival


July 22, 2016 AA Moore 0

Natalie’s Poem – She has a polish that’s just the right amount of coarse, Glossed lips shoot swear words like cupid’s arrows, forced to look up from a distance, tripping on your heels, Breath shallow, lungs tight – FUCK-  so this is how it feels. The shadow on her face, read more

festival sky 2


July 14, 2016 AA Moore 0

Burnt Toast – Claire ran a nail across the charred toast top, chipping it so it rained black dust. Her mouth was heated sand, throat as tight as a cat’s asshole, her initials scratched in the burnt-out bread, she tossed it across the grass. “Mmm yummy.” A familiar voice, girly read more



July 7, 2016 AA Moore 0

Way Up Here – Way up here, in the vapour haze, everything is clearer. Air wrinkles and whips the fabric flags, vibrating the steel poles in ricochets across the valley, fragments of washing flying on sticks below. Pastel sheets wave happily to one another. A hat blows off and tumbles read more



July 1, 2016 AA Moore 0

K and the Totoro go to Tea Pt. 1 – The embers were soft peaches, excess from last night’s flame, as she sat on the edge to smoke, adding her ash, in one of the many tepees that stitched the lining of the hippy fields. He tried to explain, straining read more



June 24, 2016 AA Moore 0

Life is made of small moments like these (Above & Beyond) “Whenever we hear, sounds, we are changed, we are no longer the same, after having heard certain sounds, and this is more the case when we hear organised sounds, organised by another human being; music.” – Stockhausen, Karlheinz William: read more



June 16, 2016 AA Moore 0

Romeo Spunk Muscle – Rosina Maria Osborne wasn’t born to be a cheat but her mother was, had five full blown affairs just while Rosa was a kid alone. Was a gorgeous Italian woman with huge black hair and gigantic red lips. Rosa’s mother was built for it, an excellent read more



June 10, 2016 AA Moore 0

Just say NO – Hippy crack. Most attractive and overly satisfactory piece of gas, stored in a shiny metallic pellet, looks like a pill, a capsule, bizarrely polished and neatly squeezed out. Silver bullets amass like seagull shit on a pier, scattered and littered across dry cracks. Trampled down so read more



June 6, 2016 AA Moore 0

Follow the – Red like a river of chilli, a flame, the tail of a firework, in amongst a brunette electric shock. That’s what I notice first. I watch across the crowd, draining the can. A disembodied clump of grey with that matted explosion poking out the sides, bobbing across read more



June 1, 2016 AA Moore 0

K is for… – William wasn’t wearing anything under the Totoro, except chequered boxers with grey socks stuffed in Vans, and he had never stripped in public before. The girl clicked her tongue, impatiently playful, as slowly he began to peel back the warm Kigu skin from his own, wishing read more