Friday 3 July 2020


This poem arose from an idea about anxiety, it's not like there isn't enough to be worried about at the moment, but I was thinking of a person driven to distraction by planning for the worst.

Actually the first two lines were doggerel:

should the earthquake strike at noon
will you be in the dinning room?

Not very good at all.

What Can Be Saved?

omens fill his head

in the night he wakes

makes mental notes

what can be saved?

memorises the locations of



the thin roll of various currencies

should that live in the bedside drawer?

or be at hand by the front door?

but what if the flames prevent

him getting down the stairs?

he maps alternate routes

decides on small parcels of use and memory

scattered throughout the house

he can be at peace

now at least

As usual I do not think this is the finished poem. I start by writing them in a book longhand and revising them until I think they have a structure. I then put them onto the computer and play about with layout. At some indeterminate point they are then ready to show the world. Mostly I work by intuition, and I suppose experience.

Here's the stupendous Ryley Walker. A whole concert! He's got a couple of new downloads at Bandcamp. Here's the link.

Until next time.

1 comment: