seriousness, mostly
then set humour times
Some small boy looking earnest
holding mum's placard
It's very hard for me to say:
a. We're all in agreement here.
b. We had such a laugh last night.
an icky knot
never wholly gone
in grandest swim
of everyone
Somewhere else
the making of a ladder
from the body
that goes up with
rough guts stirring
to stars: originary farts
punched eyes
those rumours that won't be gone
Back home we keep the red flag where everyone
that needs to can see it
(a little soiled, it must be said).
and yet, it seems the question's begged,
Whatever have we to look forward to?
Old boring songs sung unashamedly.
remember to pine for oldfashioned industrial
structuring and worked flesh
To looking forward, question mark.
Gather and disperse.
[closing sentences will refer to image
in black and white - maybe winding gear
with majestic clouds of due rain/ smoke going
up and out from chimney
in misted over near distance]
Back home we keep the red flag where everyone
ReplyDeletethat needs to can see it
(a little soiled, it must be said).
One takes one's heirlooms as they come. However musty, what other nonelectronic cargo have we got. Better an old boring song sung without shame than heads hung in terminal silence. Still the big smoke does amount to the oddest nostalgia item. (Reminded of this by the literal pall cast over the decrepit household by an episode of burnt toast, three or four rainy nights back. It still hangs in the sodden air and no one is wishing those times would come round again.)
I am glad of this inheritance and even the songs against that growing silence. I hope the satirical turns in the series won't be construed as a denial of the culture that moved and shaped me.
ReplyDeleteThe whole nostalgia around those vast factories that swallowed up lives is certainly strange.
i'm still chuckling to myself about 'originary farts..' sigh. i've no excuse for myself.
ReplyDeleteAre you sure you're not a Britisher?
ReplyDelete