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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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Issue No. 13

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Sometimes a banana with coffee is nice. It ought not to be too ripe – in fact there should...

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February 2015

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February 2015

Here are a few of the Joans I know. The girl who arrives at Port Authority Bus Terminal in...

 

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