Saturday, 13 September 2014

Smethwick Windmill

Light effects on social scenery:
gold the shopping unit roof
until it's not and
her gold enunciative tracksuit creases up
and wrapper gold in gutter glisters

Halflit fuckery piston sheen by Matalan

It's written all over

To her girl: "It don't mean
that you're really happy"

Heineken sunglasses are no joke
Threat steps
at the crossing: "You stop, yeah?"
(set in
on repeat) and
the Jeep gleams and shudders

I sing falsetto bluebirds over
and the skinny girl catches a rail
and doesn't fall

The Waterloo's dead
with rusting Victory weather vane
wetted to muted and weovils
twist inside
next to empty struts of the yet-to-be

Our backyard - rotting
down rhubarb tops have
a something to say
and a pile of circuitry is stupid

A back turned sky very bored of alleluias
with the Sun being tucked in once


  1. Well having had the pleasure of an extended virtual reality tour of the Windmill Shopping Centre, the Waterloo & c., and now, listening as we are to the overwhelming din of an annual commercial street fair just up the block, overrun by suburbanoid Zippys, we are observing the tangled fossil remains of our wee drought stricken back patch. No alleluias. Sun not yet tucked in, metallic sheen of traffic still in plain sight.

    Place being what it is...

  2. A beautiful blue-black sky here, and a bird singing somewhere in the eaves.

    Lovely poem, WB.

  3. Thank you, both, for popping by.

    The Windmill is grim but I do love the flocks of starlings that dart around the car park.