THE LOCK GATES ARE NOT PERFECT.

Listen.

Theirs is the language of barleytwist

Water arcing for a lifetime. Only a

Pitter-patter after a boat's been through,

A slapping and a clapping of hands

When the lock is filled, still and ready.

Cool.

DAVID AND HIS GRANDSON

David stropped the chisel on the heel of his hand,

Saying, a dull blade has a shine along its rounded edge.

The keenest blade has an edge the eye cannot see.

Let me look.

His god was at the edge without shine

Of David's chisel during moments when shavings curled,

And wood took on another form.

I can smell where you have cut it.

A collector bought the finished chair without

First sitting on it. He could not decide whether his god

Was David or the chair.

That man would enjoy your job.

REDSOUND

Red diesel train makes exactly the right sound. Or perhaps
The note is colouring my visual perception? I hear before seeing, even though
Light travels faster. At water level sight is on the lowest
Fenland horizontal. Any bed of reeds can get in the way. But a blare
Travels the sky that joins me to it. So can a locomotive's multi-media signal

Seem to contradict the law of physics.
But what do I know? I'm only a poet.

BRIGID

Appearing on my blog, shaking
Me rigid

With delight.
How did you get here? Not by Easy-Jet
I bet. They don't have such
Certain flight.

Ah yes. Your canary wings helped
You bridge it,

That divide.
It's possible to connect by AM,
Using E. Show him this poem,
He'll confide.

RUBBLE BUBBLE

tram line
what a climb
silver track
spotty pavement

blue board
pointing north
tell me more
wheremy going?

to the tate
though it’s late
yes yes
in a taxi

lady fat
plastic mac
yellow wellies
talking quickly

tell me please
is this cab
going my way
i should think so

empty building
very dusty
flaky flooring
very musty

fanny window
metal frame
olive water
rubble bubble

rubble bubble
rubble bubble
rubble bubble
rubble bubble

ham salad
very nice
cuppa coffee
sugar n spice

bred n jam
lick yer knife
bath yer kids
kiss the wife

watch the box
box of trix
put the cat out
smiles n lix

have a pee
go to bed
rest your weary
weary head