Rust on Cloth
( 2023 )
The Right Shadow
Grey, when you's staying at Clink Hotel. Black, when you returns home to no fixed address. Each casts the right shadow, makes you invisible. Makes you useful.
Rust on Cloth
You walks along striding lengths of vacant brick where even today you never sees new cars. And sliding pass pub windows that shield sun and rain and bad dreams you gets the full yeasty blast of damp cloth and old men sharing lies over warm beer and brown fingers.
Spare Change for Twisted Feet
People you wants, needs, is every time busy. Is why you's visiting Clink Hotel. Is truth.
Cracked Smile
Like two coins rubbed clear your cracked smile is a daily reminder of the last fight 30 years ago.
No Paths...
Here, where young people never return and there are no paths and old people stop to watch lost cars, is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
* A small but well attended mid-week spoken word event in Birmingham. Rust on Cloth came up in conversations. A reminder of previous Birmingham city centre MicroFlashFiction experiments and images from Tin Collector ( An 11.59 Publication) and Born in the Workhouse ( An 11.59 Publication )
