The Wet Shift

Extracts.

Time was he'd be with the other workers heading south after another all night wet shift. But not today. Today, he's still invisible in his toasted brickwork hat and waking up late after a nights sleep on the butchers slab that rests buried in the dark silted low tide beach alongside the gravy.

***

Busy checking that the hidden key and twist are still in his deadman's waistcoat he will slowly begin his own journey south of the river to his cardboard hostel room, electric sheets, liquid breakfast and another brown day full of grey moods, careless thought and burnt cake.

Wet Shift

Steve Coel

..(the disturbing ) return of city lightning..

 

Too many daytime hideaways

are in backspaces

unseen from roads

and rear view mirrors.

Here, torn feral shoes

will once more be shredded

by rubble and broken glass

and shaking hands

will again be shaken

between tracksuits,

worn to hide

shape, weapons and sex.

But tomorrow you will return

because it is the place

where real trade

remains invisible

and ignored.

[ Previously published : Torn Shoes - Steve Coel ]

Walking Notes

..you catches snatches of stoned smiles floating through smoked out windows of passing stolen number plates. Everyone knows the cliches and seems to love them round here. And not ironically, ironically..

..( always ) seen wearing cheap clothes they's always got expensive rings and expensive boxfresh. Go figure. Seems weird to most, but is accepted down the street because knowledge is learnt early round here. Everyone knows, you don't learn, you's a loser. And that's where you don't ever want to be - reputations is made early and lasts. Everyone knows this, don't they? Is fucking first lesson for fucks sake!

Steve Coel

Half Stolen Buildings

In her regulation daytime armour

cracking with coarse whispers

and yesterdays broken promise,

the young girl pushes

a vape shadowed carrier

past boarded 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.

From City Trilogy ( Part 1 ), 2020

Steve Coel

Stryd Fawr / Stryd Uchel ( 2021 )

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

which we knows

show best same 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.

From City Trilogy ( Part 1 ), 2020

Steve Coel

c. Liar - Maisy Gordon, Collage: An 11.59 Publication

Rings on her fingers..

 And so it starts..

Two chases. At the same time. The novelty of poverty..

Words spoken out of turn. Causes offence..

Everyone's seeing signs that ain't really there..

First kiss of the day..

Protection. Hiding away is not an option..

Next to the fire escape door. Corner seat facing the entrance..

Threats; the bad kind..

A last major offence of the day. More to follow. Lots more..

Discarded

You's got the twist..

Secrets shared for information..

Truth shredded in a moment..

The silent bombshell suited beggar..

Notes

In your spring hat, tied with lost string, you search the free paper for clues for which day you now find yourself..Waiting. Waiting on the corner beat today for the next delivery in the rain..Disturbing the glances from local windows and trolley men..the clump of wet shoe against cracked kerbstone drunks..a high street roars with the anger of closure and debt..even the most fucked up has memories when called upon. Is called survival so it is..

Rings on her fingers..

First Draft - Steve Coel

Steve Coel