Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

muddy smell coming up from the creek
damp hanging down the hillsides
a tall man, but thin
not well looking

             Thing is, darling
              thing is, see...

he saw me waiting
              Why are you looking?
                          I was listening
                          you was talking
               what was I saying?

I said
                                            nothing

you can smell the prison on a man
when he’s talking block fear
he’s just like a mirror
all too clear

I made some tea
which he drank as it came
it weren’t very nice
but he didn’t complain

walking my clean tiles
he has to ask me
something to tie me
give us a history

               Lend us a tenner?
I say
                We’ll see

He’ll get pissed, take me
that’s what prison does to you see
          makes you truly thankful for what
                                                 you receive
dis-satisfaction guaranteed

Us clever witches who know the future
we make our lives that much poorer
all that can happen
is what you imagine

I’m kind to him
all my charm
lend him biscuits
stroke his arm

I won’t give him nothing
but a little pain
to treasure in prison
when he goes in again

                            Where shall we go?
              We’ll go somewhere dark
                           Oh my dear soul!

(no my dear soul)

Outside the window blue sky
                               silver trees
don’t know when to drop their little
                                      green leaves
Cornwall confuse them
then the frost come