EARWIGGING

I promise this is the last time I shall show you this poem, I think it's complete-phew! You can read the last version here.

In the 1970s, the K-unit Maintenance

baggin’ room, at Castner-Kelner Chemical Works,

was not conducive to the study of great literature.

We were employed to fix broken machinery,

not to broaden our intellectual horizons,

so there were no pointers to those volumes

that could have enabled us to understand

why we had been educated to a certain point

then handed overalls and told to get on with it.

We drank tea on our breaks

and talked of nothing in particular.

I think the tight punctuation aids clarity, as does removal of all extraneous words. That's always difficult, but it is worth asking yourself how the poem benefits from each word and being ruthless in removing excess.

the parking police walk up our street

earwigging I’m walking behind

it’s like this is the savannah

and we’re the apex predator

we give no one a second chance

let alone some third act of grace

a ticket on every window

and digital photographs of the crime

you can’t argue with technology

it’s a result every single time

This was just a little idea that occurred to me when I watched two traffic wardens walking up the road deep in conversation. The rest was fantasy.

I suppose I should play Lovely Rita by The Beatles to complement the second poem.

Until next time.