Poetry Corner: The Hogweed

By Mike Bell

Well then, Maister Keks.  So, you have plans for The Meadow.  Again.

The scaffolding’s up.  Tall cranes hoist struts and spars skyward.

The Architect’s plans beguile me: creamy interlaced disks

(landing pads for hoverflies).

Welcome added element of vertical.

Too soon and too late, I sense the acrid undertone to sweetness.

Casting lace, your invasion plans are uncovered: fruition.

Opposition is in vain now.

Wreckage, brutalist stark.  Function fulfilled.

And you, Keks, are gnarled underground.Waiting.

Next year’s campaign will show how much further you have encroached on green-field.

But at least dock-lands are being re-developed.

McB August 2018

The Hogweed Mike Bell


Categories: Culture

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