April 20, 2012

We are the custodians of Kerry

we take her calls,

we answer the door

to her visiting debtors

open her letters

from the Water Board.

We cannot pass a number.

We are not able

to provide an address.

We forward no envelopes –

like sending a letter to Mrs Christmas

we place in recycling

and utter prayers.

We are the custodians of Kerry;

the receivers and guardians

the trustees of ghosts.

We tell a friend

she’s no longer living

in this house

she has no coat.

We tell the gas man

she left no cheque.

We tell the bank

we cannot help.

We tell the kitchen

she has gone,

the bedroom and stairs

already know.

We are the custodians of Kerry

send no bills,

parcels,

notes

Send no mail-order

a5 catalogues

of silver jewellery

and bonus points

She left a photo

in the meter cupboard

the parts for the cat flap

in a cardboard box

She left the manual

for the burglar alarm,
razor in the bathroom,

lighter in the hallway,

open door

puff of smoke.

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April 20, 2012

We are the custodians of Kerry

we take her calls,

we answer the door

to her visiting debtors

collect her letters

from the Water Board.

We cannot pass a number.

We are not able

to provide an address.

We forward no envelopes –

like sending a letter to Mrs Christmas

we place in recycling

and utter prayers.

We are the custodians of Kerry;

the receivers and guardians

the trustees of ghosts.

We tell a friend

she’s no longer living

in this house

she has no coat.

We tell the gas man

she left no cheque.

We tell the bank

we cannot help.

We tell the kitchen

she has gone,

the bedroom and stairs

already know.

We are the custodians of Kerry

send no bills,

parcels,

notes

Send no mail-order

a5 catalogues

of silver jewellery

and bonus points

She left a photo

in the meter cupboard

the parts for the cat flap

in a cardboard box

She left the manual

for the burglar alarm,

a lighter in the lobby,
razor in the bath

The mint has seeded to the property
she left the fridge
an open door

she left the place
one day,
whenever

a car,
a case
puff of smoke.

Custodians of Kerry

April 20, 2012

We are the custodians of Kerry
we take her calls,

we answer the door
to her visiting debtors

collect her letters
from the Water Board.

We cannot pass a number.
We are not able
to provide an address.
We forward no envelopes –

like sending a letter to Mother Christmas
we place in recycling
and utter prayers.

We are the custodians of Kerry;
the receivers and guardians
the trustees of ghosts.

We tell a friend
she’s no longer living
in this house
she has no coat.

We tell the gas man
she left no cheque.
We tell the bank
we cannot help.

We tell the kitchen
she has gone,
the bedroom and stairs
already know.

We are the custodians of Kerry
send no bills,
parcels,
notes

Send no mail-order
a5 catalogues
of silver jewellery
and bonus points

She left a photo
in the meter cupboard
the parts for the cat flap
in a cardboard box

She left the manual
for the burglar alarm,
a razor in the bathroom
lighter in the bedroom,
open door,

puff of smoke.

April 3, 2012

For Francis Maude, David Cameron, Gerry Bridgwood and Dianne Hill.

And Cameron says
fill up a Jerry Can
like we’re fighting the Germans
in the First, therefore greatest
of all of the wars.

Cameron says
fill up a Jerry Can,
remember Britannia
ruling the globe.

Put on your coat
let’s march off out
Flanders is calling
through Telecom clouds.

A house repossessed,
a widow evicted
yes, fight them on the hills
fight them on the beaches.

Fill up a Jerry can
as we turn back from Syria,
go after Gadafi,
hold up in Iraq.

Captain Mannering,
as we privatise everything,
murder Bevan,
steal the milk.

Fill up a can
as we tap all the phone lines,
dine with the bankers,
shut all the doors.

A woman stands
in a Yorkshire kitchen.

Fill up a can
a Gerry can can.
Flanders is calling,
a country burns.