i grew up in the uk
water out a standpipe
& the ladybird storm
& the national anthem broadcast
every evening at closedown
i grew up in the uk
windsor weddings on tv
their cartel crockery
ubiquitous & mandatory
~
i grew up in the uk
rolf harris all over tv
drawing cartoon kangeroos
making all the kids happy
remember he sang two little boys
on stage at glastonbury ?
~
& we had cod wars back then
& an oil crisis
that made for thin elvis vinyl
now cod wars are only pending
theres another oil crisis
& elvis vinyl is now fat as the king
i dreamed
of a new years eve
in a deep indigo forest
me ridgwell a whole bunch of us writingslobs
unsettled and itching
riding warm air updrafts
into a rich
blue
cloudless night
drifting up almost close enough to the stars
to know
if theyre the worn holes in black velvet
where the light
of a kind of lost heaven
filters thru
like a tease
we all have soft palm pod screens
they roll open like vine leaves
we share
haikus around
like wine
or something similar to haikus - they were experimental
of course
and
heavy on accurate punctuation
i struggled to finish mine
unable to find the right last line
about the planets
being the dead used fossils
of the old gone gods
we found a baby up there
a sky boy
he is
like a magic boy we said
he is
like a superman boy we said
we all wrote it all down in our vine leaves
heavy on accurate punctuation
and
we took turns
to keep him warm
inside our coats
as we flew him down
to get a foil blanket
from
the
st johns ambulance team
parked
by
the
tea and scone tent
in the clearing is a wedding
crowded and cramped and crazy
in the deep indigo forest night
someone has done something bad there
we felt the friction of it singe the air
and all the trees outside the arguments
are gold like cake decorations
and the mad seagreen monsters
with kind donkey eyes
are
lined up on wooden benches
patiently waiting a turn
at something
we cant yet see
and us writingslobs are sky bound again
aiming for the sky holes again
vainglorious
like a race in myth
pic from bolgernow.com
