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                           Plumstead – Woolwich – Plumstead 290508 –
                           the breath of London

                           the four storey station at the top of the hill
                           once housed fire engines high on their tyres
                           all buffed red and waiting behind folding doors
                           are flats now; while up by the chimneys a blackbird
                           sings various songs as the cars pass variegated
                           along in the quiet morning light under low grey sky

                           Victorian houses stand four dimensions wide
                           and chimney flue and pipework deep are also flats
                           as starlings fight without let without resolve
                           in the overgrown privacy in front the front garden
                           when the loading crane on the building supply
                           truck lurches wrenching over the speed hump

                           downhill two young boys stalk around the front garden
                           perched on the brick pillars by the steep pavement
                           and Canary Wharf tower has new buildings around it
                           like slow plumes of smoke from a distance; forty years
                           now and my shadow is still stumpy walking before
                           me and my left ear still sticks out noticeably …

                           when the hill turns flat we walk by the water reading
                           hoardings announcing Woolwich re-generation
                           along Powis Street where the child veers along
                           in a straight line c’mere darlin’ c’mere ‘cos I can’t
                           ‘andle that when you ignore me, you know I can’t
                           ‘andle that darlin’ … doosyatold … get off

                           walking the dog white trainers hat back jaw out eyes
                           half-closed mouth slightly open – seen – hand out
                           thumb loose seven steps grasp hold while the greeting
                           happen huugg! – ‘the road is long …’; there, bellies out
                           hanging some pregnant one hanging and pregnant
                           striped tank-top still with ponytail but about my age

                           “I will step – ” slight push heel up left foot swing
                           w-i-d-e from right leg shoulder twist evenly in step
                           alternately arms out “ – because this is all I have to
                           show f’m’self”; truck: “A tool for every job” teeth
                           too big for his mouth mouthing at the young mothers
                           pushing their buggies before him as he changes gear

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

blackbird wormhole: afternoon 290613
breath wormhole: plethora: the Dark Knight Strikes Again (2002)
buildings & streets & time wormhole: ‘anyway / is it all just / a dream?’
cars wormhole: bass and piano
child wormhole: letters to Mum V – carrying on in duty and love
chimney & garden wormhole: corroboration
crane wormhole: letters to Mum I – a walk / and talk
dog wormhole: the retriever the daughter and the mother
Eglinton Hill & light & Plumstead & shadow wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich 121114
eyes wormhole: I need to keep my eyes open / in meditation
grey & London wormhole: 1967
hands wormhole: Dr Strange I – the trashcan tilted the better to see now the street
hedge wormhole: oh-pen too
identity wormhole: yet another sprain / of ‘Jingle Bells’ straining / to propagate yet another / tired Christmas spirit – … / ‘sanner clawsis coming t’ taunn – yeah’ in a / coffee shop with condensation / running off the snowflake transfers / and the iphone at the next table / talking how 50 means 900 a month – not worth / the drive (left his scarf behind – / collateral) … about my age
morning & Woolwich wormhole: hint
mother wormhole: Dr Strange III – the needs of billions
mouth wormhole: the Avengers
passing wormhole: smiling
posture wormhole: – sigh! –
red wormhole: a light rosé
river wormhole: capes flying
sky wormhole: the Last Day of Morecambe Illuminations
speech wormhole: ‘“Never,” said the Sandman; / he blinked …’
Victorian houses: deepening with each step
walking wormhole: knees