I’m in Hereford tonight. There’s a festival going on and I’m visiting schools over the next couple of days. Taking the time to sort through my notebook. Here’s a not-yet-finished poem.
About to eat a pizza in a Pizza Express
A Sloppy Joe, classic base
Remembering gazing through the train window
The rich dark greens of waterlogged fields
Water sitting and sparkling like grey ice
And red-brown rushing water
Thinking, it’s only pointless in the long term -
Life, its brevity
The final un-witnessed
Blinking out of time
But plenty to do in the short term
Excitements to plan or capture
Or turn loose from their iron cages
Loneliness,
It creeps up behind you when you’re away from home
And you realise that human connectivity
Is invisible at best
Running along fine wires
Tiny explosive electrical charges
And you ache for the illusion of human contact
As you move in so many directions
All at the same moment
To get precisely nowhere
