A New Room

Yonder far o’er vale and glen whereto grooms return and bread is leaven. This is another country. Today, outside, is a new room in which five builders, tiered upon scaffolding, cannot hear All Blues. This is no time for saxophone wails. Stand at the window and look out on the fresh planks. The backdrop: bared

At the right age

People start to ask questions they really have no right to pose   At a point, they expect you to be studying. Let it be known: a non-graduate works shifts and packs plastic bags.   Since 2008, so do graduates with four degrees. But people will still ask, What do you do? They mean are

Screens

Today latticed with songs and compound triple time. Hung other times (such as late at night) with green-scaled dragons, golden bridges, tilted bonsai trunks. More often stretched across with traffic; the commuter’s weave of fumes and crush.   From a vantage point above the screen, ideally the viewing platform on the super moon, we may

Look At

Today the sour faces coming out of front doors of those who must go to work the pinched looks of those shuffling with shopping trolleys; those who must buy groceries Look at Grey Mullet laid on ice at the fishmonger’s Look at whole others who smile weakly and wave that magazine for the homeless/unemployed outside