This poem is taken from Stand 245, 23(1) March - May 2025.
The Old Town Gas
Most lads my age won’t leave their cot – too scared,
to peek behind the voil. Past nets, shiplap
three streets thick. To see the sunrise upon
the wriggly tin and Heinkeled brick (their lot).
But in my hands, this raw material
...
to peek behind the voil. Past nets, shiplap
three streets thick. To see the sunrise upon
the wriggly tin and Heinkeled brick (their lot).
But in my hands, this raw material
...
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