all the white horses were spooked today
under a cloud-scudded mackerel sky
cows sat down in the odd warm wind
waiting for autumn to arrive
knowing nothing more
than studded stones and asphalt smooth
step, step, stepping stubborness
running blind in forest-dark groves
could not remember
as boots pulled up to knees
back to summer, and a paper-bag skirt
what
how
who
I’d decided to be
So we’re worried about the bridges now
don’t trust the men who built them
or just men
in general
suck
don’t they?
but we’re still driving across
in our cars
that men built
those same ones.
not exactly the same ones but
sort of
the polluting ones
where they fiddled the books
or the sensors
or the stats
to pretend
they weren’t so bad
after all
but they were
still.
And what about the Maldives
sinking beneath
the waves
of plastic
we made
one more long-haul flight
and I never take
a plastic straw
these days
just sink into the bedrock
of sandstone and granite
can the two mix?
blonde and dark
a fizz
you know what
the best thing I heard this week was?
that the heart and lungs don’t know
the exercise you’re doing
but the limbs
they know you’re running
you’re running
Photo: Claire Doble
clairevetica 