Friday Morning, Gloucester Green
An empty market:
Empty square, empty stalls,
only bulbs, and wire, and filament,
and all that endless, redundant light.
Only a short one today, and a new experiment with a new type of verse form, this time the ‘verbless poem’. They’re trickier than they initially seem. This one’s based on a true story of looking through the vacant gazebos of Gloucester Green this morning before catching a Megabus. The idea of light being redundant amuses me, when it’s so always anything but.
Back in 2015 I cut a blog bit short as I’d only just got back from Bristol and had to go out to my work Christmas do. I’m cutting this one short as I’m currently on my work Christmas do, in Bristol. It’s funny how life works sometimes.
Egg? Onion? Ten days to go…
Owen x
The Poetry Advent Calendar 