stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 21953
    [post_author] => 6
    [post_date] => 2021-09-24 11:16:20
    [post_date_gmt] => 2021-09-24 11:16:20
    [post_content] => 

I was thinking what Rousseau would say
about traffic lights… ASTOOM!
a car onomatopoeia’d my bicycle
and the road slid into my face.

Awake, I had lost some teeth
and my sight was astoomatic.
I tottered on some waste ground
towards the distant light.

At the Westfield Astoomia
people were spending their credit’s credit
and taking back control.
I was going in when a tout breathed

My name is Mark, I’m your new best friend,
I can help your life in many ways;
and, by the way, it isn’t true
that Facebook is a stalker.

I made my excuses and left to where
banks and building societies raise
a question unheard in these days:
what shall we do to be saved?

They went to sea in a sieve, they did,
and Jesus walked the waves –
two possible ways.

Worms and trojans!
What hope for the nine bean-rows we planned?
We lack the anti-virus
and the anti-vari-virus
and

Go east, young person.
In a back-street bar in Tokyo
Boethius meets K’ung-fu-tzu
sumo-style:

The sea is the most solid ground,
most is achieved by yielding –
’STOOM!
To cultivate my own garden
and make my own green shade.

Me? I’m taking my holiday
at the Marabar Caves.
Datta Dayadhvam Damyata
Astoom Astoom Astoom

[post_title] => Waste ground [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => closed [ping_status] => closed [post_password] => [post_name] => waste-ground [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2021-10-30 10:35:22 [post_modified_gmt] => 2021-10-30 10:35:22 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=21953 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => poems [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw [meta_data] => stdClass Object ( [wpcf-published-in] => First published in Poetry News, autumn 2021. [wpcf-date-published] => 2021 [wpcf-summary-description] => A winner of the Members' Poems competition in the autumn 2021 issue of Poetry News. The competition, on the theme of 'Surreal cities', was judged by John McCullough. [wpcf-rights-information] => [wpcf-poem-award] => [wpcf_pr_belongs] => ) [poet_data] => stdClass Object ( [ID] => 21973 [forename] => [surname] => [title] => Laurie Smith [slug] => laurie-smith [content] =>

Laurie Smith is a co-founder of Magma poetry magazine and former Poetry Society Trustee. He is a Literature tutor at The City Lit, London.

) )
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 21973
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Laurie Smith
    [slug] => laurie-smith
    [content] => 

Laurie Smith is a co-founder of Magma poetry magazine and former Poetry Society Trustee. He is a Literature tutor at The City Lit, London.

)

Waste ground

Laurie Smith

I was thinking what Rousseau would say
about traffic lights… ASTOOM!
a car onomatopoeia’d my bicycle
and the road slid into my face.

Awake, I had lost some teeth
and my sight was astoomatic.
I tottered on some waste ground
towards the distant light.

At the Westfield Astoomia
people were spending their credit’s credit
and taking back control.
I was going in when a tout breathed

My name is Mark, I’m your new best friend,
I can help your life in many ways;
and, by the way, it isn’t true
that Facebook is a stalker.

I made my excuses and left to where
banks and building societies raise
a question unheard in these days:
what shall we do to be saved?

They went to sea in a sieve, they did,
and Jesus walked the waves –
two possible ways.

Worms and trojans!
What hope for the nine bean-rows we planned?
We lack the anti-virus
and the anti-vari-virus
and

Go east, young person.
In a back-street bar in Tokyo
Boethius meets K’ung-fu-tzu
sumo-style:

The sea is the most solid ground,
most is achieved by yielding –
’STOOM!
To cultivate my own garden
and make my own green shade.

Me? I’m taking my holiday
at the Marabar Caves.
Datta Dayadhvam Damyata
Astoom Astoom Astoom