City Trilogy [ Part 1 ]
Steve Coel
Half Stolen Buildings
Smells of Time
Dead Air into Warm Harp
Steve Coel
Since I bust my legs down The Works
I's had to spend all my mornings
blowing dead air into warm harp
by the Central Library.
Bust my heart too, truth be known.
Lost everything now I has.
Still; once I's got enough coin
I has a mild and Clark's pie
down The Vulcan.
And; often or not, I ends up
talking to the old girls
warming themselves up,
before they goes and shelters
under the bridge by The Glastonbury.
Clink Hotel across the road
gets noisy in the afternoon
so I wanders back into town
for a bit of a stretch and goes
cadge a cup of tea from Astey's
before heading back down Bute
to the Sally for warm meal
and early bunk.
Doesn't have time to feel sad really.
Not me.
Trick I finds, is to forget past
and just stick to what you knows.
Need change of shoes mind.
Guess I'll find some in box
by side door sunday morning.
Half Stolen Buildings
Steve Coel
In her regulation daytime armour
cracking with coarse whispers
and yesterdays broken promise,
the young girl pushes
a vape shadowed carrier
past steamed up pub windows.
Her world is the High Street
where each day
a bitter grey tide
shambles downhill
toward abandoned blue churches
and disappearing city light.
And it is here
plastic shoes will slap
into one off needles
that litter fishless gutters
and where, even on dry days
the pavement is damp.
Smells of Time [ v.3 ]
Steve Coel
In you comes -
in your sad seven year old
ironic tracksuit
and pair of box fresh.
In you comes -
looking for deals
on the board
behind the counter
which we knows show
same best day
as last time, last week, last month.
In you comes -
doing quick sums
and ordering a dozen shots
with your release money
which you quickly shares out
to punters who isn't interested.
In you comes -
barely missed
and completely blitzed
just another forgotten
madman.
In you comes -
a madman bent by routine;
a madman twisted by addiction;
a madman caught in the to and fro
of the outside which has turned its back;
and good riddance.
In you comes -
a madman smelling of time.
Sunday Morning
Steve Coel
City Trilogy [ Part 1 ]
Steve Coel
An 11.59 Publication
