"Gi'day," says the Eton schoolboy
"1 say” says the cocky, adjusting his hat.
A work detail from the local
youth correction facility
wanders past
a cloud keeps a mountain company
bluebells
& a school bell by a crooked stream
pays unconscious tribute
to the October Revolution
its toll taking on all the colours
you can think of
afterwards
Owen never did quite fit
or if he felt he did
others didn't.
for him it wasn't
"last on / first off"
didn't want him at
the RSA. worked in the
library at the Workers
- MSA - Saturday till noon
drank alone till closing
& checks that the sky
is blue.
in his red suit
he feels compassion for
a black cloud - as large as Africa -
that is moving away.
it will take a hundred years
due to the green wind
in brown plastic bags.
trucks made of biscuits
collect them each morning
at 10.
fact is you left some time ago -
went underground
& the snow has fallen
& all that. there hasn't been
a day this autumn/winter
I haven't thought of you.
who do I write for? that's
for you to tell.