Dear writers,
welcome to Remembering Places. I'm Simon Perril, one of Jonathan's colleagues at DeMontfort University, England. We see this blog as a way of fostering transatlantic dialogue - and as a way of sharing what are potentially resources we might all draw upon in our creative work. Places are magnets for stories, myths, urban legends, memories: so let's build a memory bank of your experiences of different environments and locations. Your entries don't have to be polished pieces of writing; they can just as fruitfully be just telling us of a significant place you have experiences (especially if there is a story attached to it).
While you think on, let me take you for a walk around Leicester, England:
Concentration, Condoms ‘n’ Ketchup
A Leicester walk
A pleasant drag, a breeze
fans matted bird’s wing
in its tarmac frame.
On Gosling Street a carpet
of pigeon shit ‘n’ feathers.
Steel nests
help the buildings breathe
more easily. And we’re all stars
on CCTV.
The city eats its past
spits out the bones
and snorts like a bus.
We have moved
To Beautiful Body’s
Accident repair.
Welcome to the River Buildings
imitating dust motes on a puddle top
as geese honk like traffic.
On Western Boulevard
guy on a bench
with a fresh eye-scar
clutches a yellow ‘n’ green Holsten
sinks its pils,
self medicating
Yellohammer skuds
cold tea canal.
All moves
the dreams mobile
as a sandpit
in the back of a red ‘n’ chrome Mitsubishi.
Today’s an open ‘n’ shut
chip-case
complete with vinegar pearls.
We’re at Bar Moëbius
twisted inside-out
cobalt glove on a racing green railing.
In the green shade
of Chantry House Garden
an outsize yellow pear
doubles as a grenade
tempering green thoughts
annihilating all that’s made.
Tomorrow’s a secret
a yellow pencil
tucked behind a builder’s ear.
A Leicester walk
A pleasant drag, a breeze
fans matted bird’s wing
in its tarmac frame.
On Gosling Street a carpet
of pigeon shit ‘n’ feathers.
Steel nests
help the buildings breathe
more easily. And we’re all stars
on CCTV.
The city eats its past
spits out the bones
and snorts like a bus.
We have moved
To Beautiful Body’s
Accident repair.
Welcome to the River Buildings
imitating dust motes on a puddle top
as geese honk like traffic.
On Western Boulevard
guy on a bench
with a fresh eye-scar
clutches a yellow ‘n’ green Holsten
sinks its pils,
self medicating
Yellohammer skuds
cold tea canal.
All moves
the dreams mobile
as a sandpit
in the back of a red ‘n’ chrome Mitsubishi.
Today’s an open ‘n’ shut
chip-case
complete with vinegar pearls.
We’re at Bar Moëbius
twisted inside-out
cobalt glove on a racing green railing.
In the green shade
of Chantry House Garden
an outsize yellow pear
doubles as a grenade
tempering green thoughts
annihilating all that’s made.
Tomorrow’s a secret
a yellow pencil
tucked behind a builder’s ear.
2 comments:
What wonderful imagery. Thanks for sharing this.
Is that your specific parking space in that photograph Simon?
It's Chris Gray here by the way.
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