Tag Archives: R. M. Francis

Ivy Road

I am a torpedo. I am a torpedo. I am a torpedo. That morning mantra accompanied every morning swim, every stretch and pull of his limbs through the water. I am a torpedo. This chant matched the rhythm of each … Continue reading

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Herring Gulls of Gornal Wood

Territory echoes in a coop-caw chorus, clattering terrace rows as machinists break fasts, hectic parents scrum past speckles of teenage barks, baby squawks. The coop-caw rasps in snare drum claps – a guttural kaa-kaa over this morning’s scraps. Raptored beak … Continue reading

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Bob the Fish

Windows steamed with blinks of bitter exhales – Bob breathes like he drinks – gulps in goldfish gasps, gawps, doh say a word. The old naval pugilist teks ‘is time over last ‘alf as ‘is wench meks tay. Down the … Continue reading

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Tomo’s Sonnet

That Tomo from Tipton was guilty, they said ‘e’s a sign-on scrubber and a blether-yed who’d sell ‘is own mom for tuppence a crack, an sell ‘is own arse for a tewtree a smack. Them the wust ferrit, them wammels, … Continue reading

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Burning Tongues

We ay from brumajum weem in the borderless pits – black be day red be night. Where baby rhymes with Rabbie – that old bard who kept the burn in his tongue. That burn connects, it burns like our old … Continue reading

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Agenoria

Ethereal footprints built from blasts of glass-flame and enveloping engine-rumbles guiding our goods. Stalking steel rails, passengers peeping forward – peeping back, cut elements. We are set to trail the freight as it tutors sand to glass. Actum Agenoria! Here … Continue reading

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Pigeon

A slate coat against grey time: church spine, littered with dumpy torsos sat in line to taste the morning with the curtsy of tails, agreements nodded out like semaphores. Sally stumbles into the kitchen, still half-asleep. They nod their own … Continue reading

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