Found, lost and waiting in
The midnight-lounge,
Where the coffee jugglers
Seek entertainment, recreation
Playing games with the hobbled
Midnight’s lame-wheeled trolleys. Continue reading
Found, lost and waiting in
The midnight-lounge,
Where the coffee jugglers
Seek entertainment, recreation
Playing games with the hobbled
Midnight’s lame-wheeled trolleys. Continue reading
When I think,
Think of the space I left behind,
Beneath those happy-stars,
Between those friendly-hills,
Before those deep-green, lover-eyes.
The place I left behind
Drum comes in; steady and
Lacota-Sioux, ghost- beat strong.
She’s standing, tall and proud
Behind silk scarfed microphone
In seen-better-days snakeskin boots;
In the heart of the
Too-tired-for-sleep hour,
Insistent but near-silent
Sioux beat echoes of the
Midnight’s Gone refrain
Reverberate inside my
Young witness skull.
Pausing, horizon capering vixen,
Abroad on appointed assassin duties –
Lifts radar raider muzzle to
The hunger constellations
As if sensing the vibrations
Through whisker tips,
Witch hat ears.
Murder bound, beneath this
Butcher button moon
And chicken-stealer sky.
She will never accept
Cold-season excuses,
Will not betray me;
I cannot condemn her.
3/1/2013
Midnight ten:
Learning to
Pick the time
To throw the punches,
To throw
Caution to the winds.
Midnight ten:
Learning to
Choose words carefully,
To husband
Our breaths.
Midnight ten:
Learning it’s
Not right to
Growl at everyone.
30/11/2011
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Local History for Great Wyrley and Surrounding Areas
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