quiet in town july 2005



a poem beginning

the town

is too quiet

and out of the

question


the town disappears

over the horizon

the brow of an eye

or a skinny girl

shovelling in

chocolate bars

a packet of papers

a packet of straight cigarettes

too much

sugar rush too little distance for a

mind to travel on the

tip of at the back

of my mind

at the forefront of

thinking how far can a

mind how far for have a

care for the mind to travel





it is quiet in town for thinking

for linking words by the way they sound

from whatever part of a past

whatever hard wiring

the soft palate tasting each

syllable and I repeat myself


beaches

blue

islands



this is a poem to fill space left

over between the fore word and the

after word this poem has no links to any

other poem or anything that might

exist outside the poem it is simply

something that lasts from its beginning

to its end and where a poem should go


do you know what I mean?


with one ear to the ground for the approaching train




I’m sick of politics for example

I’m sick of Blair being in a poem

for example

I’m sick of Bush being in a poem

I don’t want them cluttering up the place

engaging me in conversation

telling me how tough their work is



a poem is a place for thinking

with one good ear to the wall my eyes

glued my fingers locked rehearsing

if only I’d said this or that or known

what might go wrong before it

goes wrong

I’m sick of to the back

teeth of reflective

practice thinking

about the things

that have already gone wrong

that can’t get put right and still

thinking about them




as I talk into the space the poem has made

and the space the poem is left the town

is quiet tonight

and my own words seem to shine

under the lights

with an eye to the future

the sensation

of being go-between

the paper and the pen the moving

hand rolls cigarettes the pen

lies as water after the storm has been

and abstracting the sense of

something or other



And I’m scared in town

of falling in love

at first sight

my heart sinks from

the fear

of going down

at first sight

shot down in flames

love is a trial to me


love is a sentence


love in the space of endless possibility

between the first and second drink

when all the threads can be gathered up


it is quiet in town tonight

I should go home now