Airport Carpark. A poem.

There are far better places to while away the time, yet we continue circling like reverse-vultures. This obtuse concrete garden (no doubt designed by Daedalus, whose Labyrinth was but a flea compared to this circus) leads us astray in every moment, much like our heart’s content. No way out, it seems, no exits or reprieve.Continue reading “Airport Carpark. A poem.”

Stand and Deliver. A poem.

Quick stop. Quick start. The car sputters like an old man who’s walked better roads than these but only just remembers how. Simple arrangements for endearingly simple times, handed across the threshold to smiling eyes with insouciant grace. The tarmac beckons, the junkyard dog barks and moans, its lassitude temporarily forgotten in the whine ofContinue reading “Stand and Deliver. A poem.”