EX24 to WA16
Sky shines that last dark blue
at the pivot of the day before blackness.
I drive the motorway, change down
to pass a Stobart, Paul Simon sings me
through the long walled bend to Avonmouth
I’m going to Graceland, Graceland
and suddenly that sky again
the snake of central reservation flick-flames
to rose as all the lights click pink
as beads on black silk
I have reason to believe
we all will be received
North. M6. Apocalyptic rain
Is China on the verge of economic meltdown?
A man in Yorkshire lives for lampreys
will soon be answering the urgent summons
to see them spawning in the Ure, the Ouse,
the Rother and the Sheaf,
‘It’s better than a proper job’ he says.
Two lanes of lorries struggle up the slope
like bulls hauling themselves from silt
spray arcs grey and silver
rattles like sleet on the windscreen
press CD to be with Rene and Georgette Magritte
with their dog after the war.
And a catch-up poem from notebook fortnight…
Change of State
The Drovers is empty
stripped out scrubbed
new painted to a cube of yellowlight
ice cream pale subtle space
so where to go now? at that stage
when you think you know enough
to take a punt. A film. Chinese
not take away.
Where would we have taken it?
Vegetarian. Makes you think.
A big fact
What goes with vegetarian?
On the way back to the station
we passed the pub again
sign-writer working late
has scrolled sausages- best in the west
across the wall
a bold claim
we grin at each other
‘I could go a sausage’, he says
I stare at him. He laughs.
‘How long have you been veggie?’
‘Three days, ‘he says,
‘there’s room for manoeuvre.’