Continuing on from yesterday's theme, today's poem is another from the idea archives that I finally got around to writing with a little distance. This one came about during a transect walk through London. It is an amalgamation of sights, sounds and memory.
One by One and all at Once
the heave of heavy doors and suitcases. A brush of leg, sticky flesh, whistle caught on lips. Pull not push. No pull mate, it’s pull. It’s all pulling you in – octopus talons towards snaking queues. Metal kisses metal. Bike racks stacked stand nervously to CCTV attention. King’s Cross? No idea – sorry. It is a purgatory for broken tourists
stolen bike. Rusted, vintage type. Basket, front, from outside Cambridge College. Cut chain, dangling, embarrassed by its incompetence. You had one job. Long walk home, helmet in hand. Site safety explained. Children must not play on this site. Protective headgear must be worn. Damn. No hat. No matter
danger, no unauthorised…can’t read the rest. Twins in pram push past. Pull mate, it’s pull. They aren’t wearing protective hats. Where is that helmet now? No matter. Railings are vertical bridges. From sky to sky maybe. Site safety is someone else’s problem