Longlisted Poem 2014

Lewis Harrington

Wilson’s School, Surrey

(White Man) in Stratford Westfield’s

If I could push a button in and out,
Switch off and out their terraced castles, their misplaced medals one
By one, which shifty con would I start with and thumb, prod
My thumb at the shining-red line that breaks the glimmer-green ring?
What scum, who come to run about my town and up
And down and leap off the ground and spin missiles through
My air, hits my castle grounds, and play and eat and screw and do nothing of true
Value, should I destroy first?  No verse
Or rhyme in their philistine talk (can’t talk the talk) just gawk – just squawk! – unoriginal
Skin shall flap and sniff up mucus through, thus causing
Pausing, light-headedness, blight-deadened guesses at excuses,
‘I feel ill’ excuses, ‘long hours’ excuses, five rings of excuses each
A different unclean colour of humour (sanguine or spleen) plus green, moral crap.
O, their castle, how I envy the stretched polar-pelt and the melted
Steel boys and toys of blue or orange spinning plastic and their games:
Elastic-free limbs spastically swing ‘cross gymnastic steel rings, deft but endorses brute, left
Back riding horses by our gentile genteel.  And pelting, heaving we’re spinning
‘Round with dizzy lunges or my dizzy lungs kissing the concrete and glass with all of their
Hearts, they’re in parks, casually strolling through border control and martyr Powell, overpaid in
Stadiums, first better by birth then sweaty lies then rebirth into harder,
Faster, nasty plasterers
Who come and do what I was born to do.
© Lewis Harrington

Project Details

  • Date February 10, 2015
  • Tags 2014 News - Longlisted Poems