Two Poems by Simon Williams

Helping My Son on a Saturday

Yesterday
I helped you with the fridge.
Although I’d cleaned it,
it had to go,
so we loaded it in the camper,
drove through town,
proved we lived in Plymouth
(though we don’t)
and left one item
of hazardous waste.

Yesterday
we chose a new toilet seat.
We could have had MDF,
(the cheapest)
one with a seaside scene,
(the most expensive)
but went for one in white ash.
You demonstrated a new design
of nylon bolt to fix it with.
I was impressed.

Yesterday
we tried to kill the smell
of cat piss, even though
you never had a cat.
We cleaned the carpet,
fitted new air fresheners,
wondered if we’d inadvertently
shut in a stray,
would find a desiccated body
if we searched long enough.


Wednesday, Gone Noon

One person, who’d died the night before,
wasn’t the one that night.
Even the ghosts were applying
for Irish citizenship.

Street lights are by no means all sodium,
some are daylight in a box.
A storm, let’s call it Oswald,
is already fiddling with the trees.

A cat sneezes, the devil when
you’re on the hunt. The Prime Minister
has lost her voice again.
The fairy lights have shone since Christmas.

Anthracite still burns in many
cottage grates. A hundred years ago
the village smelt mainly of sulphur.
The railway carriage is now a restaurant.

Cliffs are where two swathes of land
no longer get on. Someone backed
into the rear door of our van.
The front tyre pressures need checking.

 

Simon Williams has eight published collections, his latest being a co-authored pamphlet with Susan Taylor, The Weather House www.indigodreams.co.uk/williams-taylor/4594076848, published in 2017 by Indigo Dreams. Simon was elected The Bard of Exeter in 2013, founded the large-format magazine, The Broadsheet and produced the well-received PLAY Anthology. He has created the science poetry show, Cosmic Lattewww.simonwilliams.info

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.