Wastelands

Canal side moorings and old mills

Stretch their northern roots into the collapsed rubble

Of Industrialised wreckage

Overgrown with harsh grass and weeds

An old man sits at the side of the grey water

And dips a hopeful line into its murky depths

There are parts of old bikes and shopping trolleys

Poking from the surface like Leviathan bones

Paths ...

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Plague Mantra

We know that going out is wrong

and socialising would be worse,

so stay at home where we belong.

We know that going out is wrong,

avoid, like plague, the milling throng

to help the doctor and the nurse.

We know that going out is wrong

and socialising would be worse.

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Vesuvius

Moulded from my own fair hands

At the age of not very old

I still remember the cold, clammy clay

And the satisfying way

It was slice from the workboard

By a length of taut wire

Painted blue and green and red

And glazed with over ardour

So that the glistening sheen

hardened into rivulets

That have the appearance

Of old sneeze

Baked in m...

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