Night Out in Boston

 The first of the sleet slid by
On the other side of the glass
Bouncing off windscreens with a
Satisfying thud before burying
Themselves into the pavement 

We remember too slowly and forget
Too quick to keep the moment
From slipping us into the early
Hours, growing harder to parse
Time at the last place we were

Conscious that this isn’t the end
Of an evening but the dregs of an
Overactive mind running on fumes
Still catching in the light, to keep
A dim glow behind the eyes

The only light left in case
Fellow travellers seek harbour
In the face of gathering dust
The winds whipped into life
Where all else is artifice

Lost souls at the feet of Isis
Only to be raised again
When the last of us finally
Gives up on last orders
To make way for the rites

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Another Autumn

It was as if leaves suddenly started to turn  The singing broke a morning’s stillness Green faded into yellow; yellow to red Sound cascading down the walls The heat pressing through the clouds Not much of note to mark the moment We didn’t recognise the tune itself   Jasmine climbed away from its frame But the key changes resonated The flowers having fallen weeks back Time, then, is counted in shortening hours Notes dropping above and below Between what was and what’s to come A bit flat, now a little sharp, always earnest Taking pleasure in the not knowing You never notice till the season’s past A last chorus drifted through glass How that smell of blooms covers all sins Was it a hallelujah or just the mind’s echo? Its absence returns sticky-sweet rot Better to have spent the time distracted Silence carries a new weight now Than fall from vines in trying to capture Ears peeled as if expecting the encore Another autumn
Read more

My Last Word: The Status Anxiety of Post-Liberalism

Image
Some weeks ago I wrote a thread outlining why, in my opinion, far too much focus has been given to (admittedly self-described) amateur sociologists’ theories (in particular the work of Chris Arnade and David Goodhart) to explain the emergence of a disaffected electoral block responsible for the rise of Trump and the UK’s decision to leave the European Union. I promised to write up these thoughts into a blog post - so here it is. This is intended to be my very last word on the subject and my apologies to everyone already exhausted by the debate to date. The full thread can be found here , but below is a short summary of the main points: 1) There is a genuine problem of inequality of access to the public sphere and consequent marginalisation of people and groups whose problems are therefore de-prioritised in policy circles. This, however, does not mean that all barriers to the public sphere are illegitimate (e.g. those that protect others from harm). 2) The authors in question t
Read more

Do you remember his name?

Do you remember his name? Time on time he’d drop it Over the years and yet No-one bent to pick it up  Funny that. Used to joke he had A better head for names than Faces, but guess they both fit Through the neck of a bottle Can somebody not leave a mark? There are scratches under the seat Where he’d pick anxiously waiting On the bell to ring last rites And the memory of a seat that’s Always taken so you don’t even Look to see if it’s empty though The room’s buzzing with thirst Not much to show for a life Even one travelled so lightly  Still you might imagine a footprint Somewhere behind in the dirt
Read more