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Hal Coase
Hal Coase works in Manchester. His plays have been performed at Pleasance Theatre, Camden People's Theatre and the Arcola Theatre. He reviews for PN Review and has studied Creative Writing at the University of Manchester.

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We did not know it would leave us here Our sun sits bored as a dog at noon, gnawing the rocks   No stir, no From here, the earth might as well be flat – this eye its centre, this stone heart its own, all   horizons one drop down and off I am not yet a parvenu; ideas, like books, cannot   content me There is no fact much further than the reach of an arm – desperate, dislocated   This old tongue is dried to the bone I hate the sun, that attrition of seen things, which comes home safe and sound  
Littoral

Prize Entry

November 2018

Hal Coase


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Interview

January 2017

Interview with David Thomson

Leo Robson

Interview

January 2017

David Thomson — the author of dozens of books, including an account of Scott’s expedition to the Antarctic and...

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November 2011

The nobility of confusion: occupying the imagination

Drew Lyness

feature

November 2011

The Oakland Police Officers Association in California said something clever recently: ‘As your police officers, we are confused.’ It...

poetry

April 2014

Lives of the Saints

Luke Neima

poetry

April 2014

‘I’m tending to this dead tree,’ he tells me. Last time he was rolling the hard rocks down into...

 

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