Wednesday, 27 January 2016

Down by the river, a poem by Adam Common, poet

Started a writing course recently, and wrote a new poem for the sharings as part of this week's exercises. First line is from "The God of Pockets" by Sue McLeod as a prompt. I'd recommend reading that poem if you can find it. It is fantastic.

On a flat-broke day in Spring,
I skipped sideways down the hillock
To search through the busted back of
A burnt-out stolen Volkswagen,
Once dumped unceremoniously
Down by the river, next to the tree.
I found a wet, old raz-mag,
And a bag with the bones of a dog in it,
Which made me quite upset,
I sold both to some other kids,
And bought myself a "Caramac,"
Which I'd never tried before
And tasted so sickly and vile
That when the company went away,
I celebrated with a Dairy Milk.
Year on year it sank deeper,
Collecting rain, and new tossed treasures
In its spacious, family-sized boot.
Like a time capsule it filled, until
I skipped sideways down the hillock
And found a hole, partly filled
With gravel and river water,
And giant tire tracks leading away
To a place I couldn't follow.

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