I’m in a fairly grim mood today, mostly because of the rampaging juggernaut of idiocy that is today’s Brexit Announcement. Anyway, I found some notes and I have no recollection of writing them. It’s possibly a cut and paste from something I found on the net as inspiration. Anyway, it’s been pulled apart, rewritten and restructured as a poem of sorts.
Sheffield 1982
Dead ‘works, steel themselves,
against callous abandonment,
their last breaths outlining
the brutalism of Hyde Park,
still glowering over the city;
the last sentinels of a failed future.
Maggie on Dudley and Eunice | |
![]() | Rockall Mugs | Will… on It’s Pissing Down On… |
![]() | Peak 3 (Stillborn) |… on Alderley Edge |
erroneouschoices on Brittle (for Greg) | |
hana on Succotash |
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