Rub of Hand

There is a singular peace to be found in spaces where nature is busy removing memory.

Walking Notes

Steve Coel

Walking Notes

Steve Coel

Because here, where rusty wire gravy becomes encrusted in cement and everything is always broken, the rub of hand and mark of machine have all gone and time is now taking another stumble into unseen swollen puddles of oil, urine and bottled music.

Walking Notes

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Shadows

In the nick of time power station reflection

you upgrade yet another dog end

and once again check the hidden shank 

in your Clink Hotel grey.

A long time is short here,

because outside nobody stands still. 

And routines are dictated by the coded message 

of engine, animal and whistle

and by shadows that appear 

and disappear on park borders.

Walking Notes

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication