Stanlow
This is a piece of visual poetry. The text was overlaid onto a picture of Stanlow and apes the night time skyline of the refinery. Unfortunately, wordpress compresses pictures quite substantially. I had hoped for you to be able to download the picture and view it in a decent jpg viewer but that’s apparently not possible, so I’ve put the picture of the finished piece (above) to give you an idea of how it should look when it’s printed out and the put text below.
I’ve also added the picture of Stanlow refinery for reference.
STANLOW
Every
summer
Sunday, we
walked the
meadow,
collecting
grasshoppers,
caterpillars
and ladybirds
for no reason
but to
fill Bryant and
May match
boxes
and forget.
Cardboard insoles
disintegrating
as we closed
in on the wetland marshes
to throw
stones at godwits
and herons
on the
Mersey
sandbanks,
laughing
as they
hooped
and
boomed
before
settling again
to feed on
freshwater shrimps. Then ships brought
a city with no houses and
a tar sticky heart.
A promised
life of
leather uppers
for the price of a smoke
sick river, acid in
the reign of oil; a backdrop of pulp fiction landscapes
and a name stolen from
a childhood
idyll. But
the vitriol
subsides
and shiv blade
outlines have
softened
with
age
and
ivy.
Steel gantries hold heat,
creating thermals for
hawks
to ride
and prey
in the returned grass
land. Orchids
bloom
in the
undisturbed
pasture
and hooping
and booming
can be heard
once again.
2 comments on “Stanlow”
Leave a Reply
Recent Comments
 | 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 |
Recent Comments
| 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 |
Will Vigar 
Pingback: Pulsar – I Bet It's Hell In Summer
Pingback: Pulsar | Will Vigar