My name is Leigh Williamson Goodman, although I write under the name Elliott Alexandria Truman. I'm a third-year student of English literature and German, usually at the University of Strathclyde, Glasgow, but this year I'm studying literature in Rühr-Universität, Bochum, Germany. I don't suppose I've been writing seriously for too long, around four years...I've been published in a university anthology, and won a contest, but nothing too major. I just like to write, and would like some means of others being able to read me. I do most of my writing on public transport, where most random thoughts occur to me.

wild asparagus

to my left:
fields of wild asparagus
drizzle past; the
grapefruit-plump sun
casts anaemic shadows
like little bits of lateness.

to my right:
as you would imagine. same as before.
same places. growing bored with themselves.
same old same old
orphaned villages which find
fusty pleasure in inducing headache
amongst this collective hangover.
circle line
monorail in my mind...


take me to ohio
and endless days of
wild asparagus.
turn back
i will be sat there
tearful; outstretched
biting charred lips and counting
on raw hands the days
until we tremble in the corn

yr contempt makes y'so beautiful
y'can't handle yrself look how he looks
at you
i'm so special n y'r so lucky
pretty like them fields

wishes confetti by,
they will land in tokyo
tibet iowa ohio or
wherever it

--Elliott Alexandria Truman

Copyright © 2000 by Leigh Williamson Goodman

revere#1 : for elizabeth

friday evening 4.33 :
jealous on a train after hours
knowing i will find my destination
disappointing: study you, blonde
who seems to be elizabeth.
tunnel, wraps me in the density
of self-importance, open air
tracking towards tonight. in
another hemisphere i miss my stop

flourish, underworld comforts, some
seedy guise for rubberised normality
where we rise from repetitive restaurant
routine; form a secretive smile
glossed with Vampish perversion.

i sit here fully aware
of my awaiting indifference,
the onset of indecisiveness, somewhere
between 4.33 and 4.35, begins
with the loss of elizabeth.

--Elliott Alexandria Truman

Copyright © 2000 by Leigh Williamson Goodman


everything depends on
the girl with green eyes

striding purposefully
through swollen streets

stopping only once
to pick up the pieces

--Elliott Alexandria Truman

Copyright © 2000 by Leigh Williamson Goodman

six days

choosing sides
(who's your favourite today?)
the dying skin i peel
i pick away today
smell it shrivelling
watch the blisters appear
surface callouses, tear you off
we still have six whole days.

six days
six days: i dare you.
this old fruit
seems pliable yet, the shape remains
it is still wet.
severing layers, the effeminate skin
i intend to expose
in The Legend Of 5 Days.

skinless, i can imagine the
gutlesness of it all soon.
beyond mellow, the stench that threatens
to bug my neighbours -
choose your sides, i dare you.

four days. four days.
i poke, it yields, flesh
and mush. and i say,
i should've eaten you yesterday!
violently coloured now
not for sale
i dare you to inhale
collapse will occur
within three days.

we have festered
and discussed
and stank and chatted;
neither of us have vomited.
i can smell distorted life:
overripe and overused -
choose your sides.

two days :
amorphousness begins
i need to
avoid that which melts
and is making me ill.
no-one is next door;
this thing may burst and spread -
no-one dares.
evacuees -
hello, my fellow survivor!
i dare you to repair
my fetid ornament here,
don't touch the pin -
an organic explosion will waste me.

one day to stitch up
splitted layers -
one day i will realise
how much i hate
what's out-of-date;
one day i will choose my side
and stop selling myself
for half the price.

--Elliott Alexandria Truman

Copyright © 2000 by Leigh Williamson Goodman