KLEE IN WIDNES

I have been revising my work with the help of Juncture 25 and the Secret Poets. They are both poems you have seen before. The poem that lends a line to the title of the post was slightly longer in its last incarnation. The last couplet has gone and I've changed some of the other lines as well.

KLEE IN WIDNES

hobbles his palette to grey and black,

then goes hunting for other colours.

He walks terraced streets and

sketches the Transporter Bridge.

Bumps into Lowry by the Empire.

together they bemoan the films on show:

Too bloody American for my taste.

End up in the Queens

drinking bitter with the bus drivers.

Outside again the sunset stops him short,

more colours then he has seen all day.

Lowry disabuses him of any grand design:

It's all the muck the factories pump out.

He leaves that nigh from Farnworth station.

CORBUSIER in BRIDGWATER

this higgledy-piggledy town of twisting streets

is an offence to a man in love

with the right angle.

None of which cuts the mustard in Bridgwater.

After all, they have the first concrete house,

a ruin to be sure, but still history.

The Big C has the last laugh,

when they pulled the place to pieces

and speared roads through its heart.

THE MARX BROTHERS IN LIVERPOOL

are looking to get laid,

after Paradise Street disappointed.

Chico checks The Echo

his horse has yet to finish yesterday's race.

That rich boy cousin Charlie knocked about with,

used to say Manchester was where it was at.

But they are booked in Huddersfield tomorrow,

wherever the hell that is.

What do you think?

Dolphin Watching in Oman

The sound of two hands clapping.

Repeated.

It will, I am told, draw the dolphins.

A hundred people,

in six boats, 

mill around the bay.

The large hands slap again.

Engines idle, the man maintains his rhythm.

Applause as the mammals surface.

We chase them or they follow,

it is difficult to tell.

Do they care an industry 

has developed around them?

They left the land to us,

returned to the water long ago.

Now we search for them

as if they had answers.

This second poem benefited greatly from the input of the Secret Poets. You can read the previous draft here. The scratched, old record in my head cannot help repeating that you need to work with others to improve your work. 

I leave you with a cool new surf, garage band, Somerset's own Lakota Five. I'm hoping to interview them soon.Having seen them live I can tell you they are the real thing. There is an energy and an edge to them.  Judge for yourself.