Thursday, 15 March 2018

failing to reach escape velocity

my childhood; a stone in my shoe,
a wallpapered memory, peeling;
trimming the lamps, and dimming
grandpa’s gas-mantled dusk.

rejecting today’s vermillion carpet,
unwelcome by the zinc bath boy;
the iced windows are, thoughtlessly,
not listening. they never did.

the hard slag tips’ strong foundation,
is ill-designed for building today;
they will not house my childhood.
false, they call back; false, false!

eyelid heavy, the village days wrap
up my today and throw it away.
the village ball and chain drag,
and i fall back as i always do.

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