By Andy Fletcher
a t-shirt
and a plastic bag
causing alarm
repeat alarm
a sweaty hurriedness
an unopened jack-knife
you don’t look back
you try to guess where a cloud’s going
and how it’ll change
repeat change
a puzzle you can’t answer
no matter how far your eyes travel
or how tight they’re shut
beyond a whisper
an exploded house rising up and settling again
as dust
repeat dust
leaving you
to believe or deny the propaganda
to walk across fields
towards a lonely junction
without any money
with one last ring to exchange
you sigh
repeat sigh
will a child bang a stick on a shipping container?
will you talk
with your brother and sisters?
you want to find connection
and feel alive
repeat alive
Born Halifax UK. Now lives and works in Hull. Graduated in Law but has since worked as a machine operator,
farm worker, bus driver and social work assistant. More than 100 of his poems have appeared in various
magazines including Poetry Salzburg Review, Tears in the Fence, Turbulence, Butcher’s Dog and Strix and have
appeared in several anthologies. He has 2 collections to date – ‘the mile long piano’ (Ragged Raven 2007) and
‘how to be a bomb’ (Wrecking Ball 2016).
