Keere Street / Scare Hill
Clamour of cobble
rough river
bursting banks.
Each stone claims space
angle and push
rising proud.
Jumbled tumble
slippered in moss
polished with rain.
Stopped short
by crux of brick
we do not fall.
Bull Lane - Paine’s Twitten
Flint tunnel
rip in time
narrow slip
between high walls
past gates
we can’t open
warped wood
blind locks
then
as we lose our breath
a keystone
yields to the touch.
St Swithun’s Lane - St Swithun’s Terrace
Swithun’s last words
rise up like mist
his final request:
no shrine, no walls
between my remains
and my parishioners
no barrier to the sweet damp air
to heaven’s rainfall
green on my grave.
For a century they walked close by -
blistered and poor
tired or praying
stopping a moment
among the trees
boots thick with loam -
then bricks went up
to honour his tomb.
Today the road shines dark
with summer rain
buildings keep rising
the layers thicken
for forty days
the skies are stone.
Green Lane
Shadowed underfoot
damp rising
you’ve pushed
what wants to grow
to the vertical.
Toadflax and bramble
crawl up doors
nose through brick
pear trees stretch fingertips
over walls.
St Martins Lane
unbox the houses
tilt the roof
rich cream wall
peel back timber frame
orange squares
lift the pink siding
of the chocolate shop
slide out the slice
of tree
hill
sky
Watergate Lane
Wide mouth
delta
open hand
empty bowl
we drink flowers
eat earth
gifts from stone.
St Andrew’s Lane
a garden is always a series of losses
a wall is safer
a wall is better than a war
a garden is a friend
a garden is the shape of a rectangle
a wall is just a wall
a wall is a screen
a garden is never finished
Station Street / St Mary’s Lane
often overlooked
predominantly of terraced housing
a room may have been this colour in the past
every accommodation for visitors
an atmospheric drinking den
independent coffee house
a mouse hole of a shop
not organised in any discernible fashion
new stables, shops and carriage repository
approved subject to drains being properly ventilated
during repair work a void was discovered
with this area being 91% white
the spin machine will be back in action
your sphere online
colour makes people happy
the salt to hit your tongue
eaten upside down to allow
a mouthful of this and a mouthful of that
nose to tail
a former Wesleyan chapel
is on the market
as well as a host of innovative workflow apps
acoustics, noise, vibration
dust and air quality
Craven A will not affect your throat
click here to view 65 crimes
while investigations and any necessary repairs
are carried out to fill the void
St Nicholas Lane
A tree grew against the wall
slow leaning
trunk thickening.
The wall began to yield
inch by inch
it bowed and bellied
the way stone shouldn’t.
The tree was felled
but left its shape
a negative
impressed.
We give the wall space
as it teeters
swollen with secrets.
Walwers Lane
The argument might have raged for years
since the flats were built around it
layering anger into foundations
making rooms for the pain.
Bystander, passer through -
this twitten is made for overhearing -
gaps in the wall
like open wounds.
Church Twitten
the east wall is cobble
gilded with lichen
the west wall is flint
knapped jigsaw pieces
fig tree stretches
teardrop fruit
low door creaks
silvered wood
beech leaves rust
join windfall mulch
horse chestnut leans in
conkers split
fig tree creaks
green parasol
low door rusts
bramble ladder
the east wall is cobble
gilded with lichen
the west wall is flint
knapped jigsaw pieces
Broomans Lane
"It is not wet air, nor moist air, nor vapoury air; it is not vapour in any shape or form whatever. It is an immersion of the whole body in hot common air."
- Johann Ludwig Wilhelm Thudichum (1861), on the Victorian Turkish bath
A tinderbox of breath
a tender oven
blood rising under skin
throats red as roses.
You inhale
your neighbour’s voice
your sister’s sigh
your lover’s secret
the hot common air.
