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huyton

 

no blue bells on this hill a pilgrimage a dwarf

alsatian won’t let go of my leg down

the rabbit hole I mean through the open window

into the boiler room someone is drinking

wine down there I walk through wildflowers

and tell you it must be the devil that’s a lie

there was nothing wild we were chased by

wasteland protectors in land rovers so one

of us tumbled down into a valley into the motorway’s

embrace the moon too large as I drove out

of somerfirleds or sainsburys or tesco in a grey

coat he said giant reach me the moon giant

take the moon down from the top shelf the freezer

boy stays in the freezer most days there’s a little lift

it’s a death trap curving road I can always see my past

family tree in strong winds its branches snap the fences

fall I can see into a wilderness I mean they haven’t mowed

their garden since their jack russell sat in the road and cried

where he sat where he always sat there’s a speed bump

now there’s a camera looking down from the streetlamp but

nothing is ever witnessed someone smashed our window with

a tennis racket someone made the weeds all bloody someone

walked with me week after week but all I remember now

is a ham and tomato barmcake the tomato juice ruining

the butter ruining the lettuce there’s a boar’s head but no

boar there’s a wildcat crying beneath a rainstorm there’s

a girl I slept with later and a grasshopper there’s my cousin

who turned out to be greek there’s the day my nan died mugs

of hot water spilling over I’m not there now but one

day I’ll go back and tell my daughter look there

is where I wanted to be an archaeologist

look there is where they told me to stop digging

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About michaeleganpoetry

Liverpool based poet and editor. I have had four pamphlets of poetry published, most recently After Stikklestad (Knives, Forks and Spoons Press, 2010). Penned in the Margins published my first collection, Steak & Stations, in 2010.

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