Showing posts with label On my way to buy a morning paper. Show all posts
Showing posts with label On my way to buy a morning paper. Show all posts

Friday, 18 September 2020

On my way to buy a morning paper #98

Mist over the river diverted me to the golf-course path

to see stereotypical stripes of gentle white 

interspersed with Paynes grey tops of trees and distant hills;

wind blades still.


Saturday, 15 August 2020

On my way to buy a morning paper #97

From number three to number six
Holywell Green
the road is wet/dry scalloped
where precipitation failed to penetrate
the trees.

Wednesday, 22 July 2020

On my way to buy a morning paper #96

A discarded latex glove
and my mind flips between
man who manages five times a night
and close-coupled gang-bang.

Friday, 8 May 2020

Wednesday, 22 January 2020

On my way to buy a morning paper #93

Bullfinch pink
filling for a sandwich
between bullfinch blue hills
and clouds of identical hue.

Monday, 7 October 2019

On my way to buy a morning paper #91

Sky a  morning, dawning conflagration
wider than any seen before
Longer lasting - to the shop and back
with a diversion to the golfcourse stile
to look further to the hills.

Later grey.
Pale grey
All day.
And raining.

Sunday, 23 June 2019

On my way to buy a morning paper #90

Two dog walkers
How did I know they were not a couple?
She talked too loudly, an anecdote.
He looked at her, now and then, as she spoke
more alert than a husband, more looking as if to see
not already knowing what came next

Saturday, 20 April 2019

Wednesday, 16 January 2019

On my way to buy a paper #87 (or, Assimilation; quickness of the brain undeceives the eye)

Silhouetted agitation
emerging from the footpath on the left
becomes limbs
people
children running
from mischief?
no, one adult one child
abduction?
no, father early morning running
with his daughter.

Wednesday, 10 October 2018

On my way to buy a morning paper #86

Just round the corner
a banana skin
so fresh I guess the dropper
still chewed the final bite.

Three or four steps on, a rose
whose pale fat swollen pinkness
imitated mouth-cloying scented fondant.

And on return, I win my bet -
the banana skin uplifted and flown elsewhere.

Friday, 24 August 2018

On my way to buy a morning paper #84

On returning from the still-shadowed cool
the warmth of the house
more welcoming than stifling
I kept my cardigan on.,

Friday, 30 March 2018

On my way to buy a morning paper #82


Reading this week about ravens –
the death of one, the threat should they all leave –
the crumpled blackness in the centre of the road
brought apprehension.
Closer, small relief:
only a gold-lettered M&S bag,
recently discarded.

Thursday, 22 February 2018

On my way to buy a morning paper #81

Car-shape dryness
in otherwise wet road
signifies an overnight stay
its placing -
anonymous, unclaimed -
suggesting illicit,
adulterous.
I look around and wonder
'Who?'

Wednesday, 30 August 2017

On my way to buy a morning paper #78

Beneath a sorry-looking tree of unknown type
(dusty diseased leaves, green berry clusters)
a circle of crisp and huddled leaves;
colour chart for painting virgin nipples.

Monday, 19 June 2017

On my way to buy a morning paper #77

A short man (squat?)
black-clad
(impression of a cloak)
shiny black curls
clutching several bits of shopping
and singing, deep-voiced and loud
Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah'.

Saturday, 22 April 2017

On my way to buy a paper #76

Not a knocked-down crow
feathers riffing in the wind
but an abandoned black umbrella
discarded crumpled in the road.

Wednesday, 31 August 2016

On my way to buy a morning paper #74

From above my head:
Click of castanets suggest a black and white fandango.
Pyjama trousers, a wet dream, 
from their hanging, buttons banging against the window glass.
And, maybe tuning into my in-queue thoughts about a tidy bum,
Steve Harley offers radio invitation.

Wednesday, 24 August 2016

On my way to buy a morning paper #73

First four folk I see today –
a jogger and two dog-walkers
– all wearing pink, like me.
Fourth man, striped spearmint
same colour as the top mine was meant to be.

Thursday, 18 August 2016

On my way to buy a morning paper #72

Sixteen pristine, two-thirds finished dog-ends
on the path beside the railings round the pub
from which I straightaway concoct
a late-night, muttered, intense and distressed conversation.