THE RECREATION GROUNDS GREEN SCOOP

all my memories
will fit inside
a dog walkers morning 

~

& the recs green scoop

& its cistern sky

i gimp past

at tea time

well its there

isnt it

like death is

or a flat tyre

PANIC BROTH SIMMERS

bungalows abandoned extensions
point skeletal in the naked morning
under cracked blue tarpaulin
swinging heavy in light wind

~

& nerves are jangled
behind the ok façade
of the van man parade

& a panic broth simmers
below the dog walkers
habit natter & chit-chat

~

i can smell it
&
it smells like

what the opposite would be

of the smell of
fresh cut grass