NaPoWriMo Day 11

 Day 11

Large
about something big
It was huge you couldn't miss it,
lying agog on the bypass from the North,
rubble piercing its skin, rust spined,
graffiti on its flank, demolition grin.
Not to be bigging it up,
it was Northern pride,
self perpetuating tunnels,
half yawned from the Liver buildings
Thank you Mr Williamson,
that utility hallage, that neoclassical pillarage
at the service of industry,
the dead clerks like flies, stuck paper files,
the flaked concrete and shattered
limestone of the chip on its shoulder,
psoriasis of peeling plaster,
the heart clocked in half out.
And might it lever itself from
its damp foundations where sewer rivers run,
crush the houses in its wake, slide ship hull- bellied
in the Mersey, ruins of some white whale

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Day 27 ..2

 The kadapul flower of happiness Is the dearest flower in the world Flowering only yearly  and then only, unobserved At midnight in a great desert But how worthwhile, How wonderful, this effort To see the moon (if there to be seen ) Then wither, silver, fade And cannot be bought
Read more

NaPowrimo Day 6

  A broken clock speaks   You assume that I want to measure time, or treasure time. I was just crafted that way; faced and handed in a poor approximation of the human- when I stopped, it was a calm. These cogs no longer nipping with young teeth, the tiny ruby captive in the workings.   Listen to me, I am half the making of a bomb, the most important part, the rationale of time, the tick tick ticking. I am happy quiet, like this, am happy stilled in the hanging air of endless afternoons, I dream in dust.   I find I do not care for the consolation of being right once, twice- the old bores’ answer. There’s no revelation; just a flag waved in the circumnavigation of nothing. And if you look at my face, morning or evening, I give nothing away.  
Read more