Steve Coel
Smells of Time
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
in you comes
doing quick sums and ordering a dozen shots with your release money which you quickly shares out to punters who aren't interested
in you comes
barely missed and completely blitzed, just another forgotten madman hero
in you comes
a hero bent by routine
a hero twisted by addiction
a hero caught in the to and fro of time outside which has turned its back and good riddance
in you comes
smelling of time.
Steve Coel
Half Stolen Buildings
In her regulation daytime armour
that still cracks
with broken promises and yesterdays
coarse park bench whisper,
the young girl pushes her
vape shadowed baby carrier
past boarded window and
gummed railing.
Her world is the High Street
where each day a bitter grey tide
shambles downhill
towards abandoned blue churches
and disappearing city light.
And it is here her plastic shoes
will slap into one off needles,
and it is where, even on dry days
the pavement is wet.
Steve Coel
* * *
I often write quickly so as not to lose the spark of an idea...
Aside: Painting in the studio I am also initially quite spontaneous, because I am in most cases, confident both with what I'm doing and with the materials available I am using. I also like taking photographs of the images I make at all stages, because sometimes impressive/important early stage work can get hidden behind overpainting, scraping back and so on..
Steve Coel
