Wednesday, 1 October 2008


Written after a trip to York a while ago, while the minster was undergoing repairs:


The building disappears
Beneath the mask of scaffold
Pipe and wood and plastic sheeting
Exoskeletal structure

I assume the church is there
Somewhere under that wrapping
That no one's taken worse than lead
From antique roofs

This is needed, so you say
Because it would be a shame
If such a grand old building
Went to ruin


Still said...

I have really got to learn freeform poetry. I can not seem to get a flow going like the conversation and voice you have going. Thanks. Nothing new. Just catching some reads.

stu said...

With ones like this, it's not quite as free as it looks. It started out as me playing around with the Sapphic form (the short version is three lines with a much shorter forth tacked on to each stanza) but I probably have wandered out of strict meter here. It's kind of like jazz. You start off playing a few variations on known scales, messing around with the blues, that sort of thing, not by jumping feet first into incomprehensible be-bop.