Midcenturyology Poems

My city had shape We ribboned past the wedding cake And the empty egg box beside it Then angled up to academic sprawl Overseen by a cuboid that tall I'll take your word for it, Octagon  Home, my tall destination The Star from the kiosk at the bus station Origami at the Horse and Lion Remember Protect and Survive?

The road goes warp to weft in green Shuttling by ditches empty of anything much The stench of hawthorn hangs In our slow-fast car We go sudden right at the old parish boundary Skirt the vanished Fawcett's Row Nettles now, a dip in the field A turn of the hedgerow  On we weave, bracketing only ghosts You might be interested in village halls

Lone spinner on the flaking Witches Hat A flashing display of skin flayed from knees On the girl with the dun hair, long and flat That barely flinches in the turning breeze She spies knitted tank tops and patched wide jeans  Proving the skill of women that know how Who look at her and know the way life leans The seeds she emerged with are splitting now Her pleated kilt is stitched tight to her vest By the nerve centre of her unfurling  Bouncing the ball of high fevered unrest Some invade the hat, it begins whirling She emerges unmoved, ready to walk The line of the hedge, bones porous on chalk Downloads and books by Sarah Miller Walters