Tuesday, 3 May 2022

it was i tell you it was

 it was i tell you it was


the baffled resonance of the female buttock

on a wooden thunder box with a hinge and lock

1950 or was it 1960 grandpa’s outside terraced loo

the local newspaper behind the lead pipe of lore

call niagara falls from under the roof beamed tank

on unpainted rafters high and mighty a throne

of time spent above the gutter of ashes and coke

it really was no joke although funny now how we sat

outside of time immersed in this valley of woe

the works’ hooters stirring the motion to go

to shift the iron smelt the zinc and copper bottom

the brighter side of town beaten on sweated brows


it was i tell you that’s how it was because i was there

and i should know how tunnel vision saw the roses

the hills and fields the high field cows looking out

over the sea bay distance falling free

larks ascending above the hare and heather 

below the fumes of sulphur deemed to stay forever

and always the school children enwrapped in laughter

never ever destined for happy ever after

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