South-West Line

a line of clouds
shifting its shapes
of esoteric Sanskrit

over a grey ridge
of factory roofs
corrugated

like ebb-tide sand,
new drainage pipes
tied like cigars

reclaimed by mud,
a flock of starlings
nailing a field

with studs of black,
around me young
voices quavering

between drawl
& TV-yank,
eyes curving

back inwards
for approval,
their rightful place

in the displaced
& deadly,
domesticated sun

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~ by Peter Lach-Newinsky on August 9, 2010.

2 Responses to “South-West Line”

  1. A good read. I’m feelin’ the alliteration in the last stanza.

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