Month: September 2018

what was that again

all the white horses were spooked today

under a cloud-scudded mackerel sky

cows sat down in the odd warm wind

waiting for autumn to arrive

knowing nothing more

than studded stones and asphalt smooth

step, step, stepping stubborness

running blind in forest-dark groves

could not remember

as boots pulled up to knees

back to summer, and a paper-bag skirt

what

how

who

I’d decided to be

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Concrete

 

So we’re worried about the bridges now

don’t trust the men who built them

or just men

in general

suck

don’t they?

but we’re still driving across

in our cars

that men built

those same ones.

not exactly the same ones but

sort of

the polluting ones

where they fiddled the books

or the sensors

or the stats

to pretend

they weren’t so bad

after all

but they were

still.

And what about the Maldives

sinking beneath

the waves

of plastic

we made

one more long-haul flight

and I never take

a plastic straw

these days

just sink into the bedrock

of sandstone and granite

can the two mix?

blonde and dark

a fizz

you know what

the best thing I heard this week was?

that the heart and lungs don’t know

the exercise you’re doing

but the limbs

they know you’re running

you’re running

 

Photo: Claire Doble