The night sky is wrapped in curls of black and the air purrs, fizzes with the sound of hot fluorescent lights, choking the air with vacation colour, blinking fast like there’s something in their eyes. Gulls guffaw in circles over 174, where inside old wallpaper is torn and dated lampshades dangle from above. Two pegs on a line outside my box, the bed is rickety and isn’t as fit anymore. The novices, the returnees seek silver and gold in the oasis before their feet sting in scorching sand. Win what you lose, lose what you win, hold onto it before it tumbles back onto white cushions. Money hiccups out of ugly machines when they have a session of indigestion. Young girls, carefree and cute walk around in a daze as chubby men waddle along the pavement thinking of that next pint. Lined up at the bar with peanuts and bottles, the large screen projects to all. A clink of glasses and a click of snooker ***** past nine, past ten, past eleven as well. And then the plug is pulled out, everybody settles down to sleep, but we all know they’ll do it again when tomorrow’s summer evening calls.
Written: July and August 2012. Explanation: A poem written in my own time, based partially on notes I made in my notebook while on holiday at the end of July and early August 2012. This piece is unlike some of my recent work, as it was not uploaded as a Facebook status update first. The poem refers to my holiday to the east coast of England (a place I have been many times) and describes what I saw during my stay there.