Fast food in Sussex

(Bishopstone, Lewes and Brighton)

 

Out the chip shop, follow the lane

(taking care with gravy and gulls).

Insects rise and beckon to the church

(still taking care with gravy).

 

The tower, hand up in the sky but not leaving,

Keeps time only, the bells do not free.

Chalk white (from chalk) it guided ships into harbour

(before the town was all fields).

Eadric’s grooves still tell days from morning woods to Victorian teas

 (Cloudy days exempt).

 

The time piece was placed before England,

 Set up by the strange to excuse invasion.

Here were the swords and power,

Cenwalh, Cynegils and Cerdic.

Not the blood of the ring giver, although that was shed,

 but the victims British, English, Danish ...

Empire’s violence spread.

Whence it came grew green and visited.

 

Go inland

past mosaics in pasta or tiles.

Once in an inn for hunters

 a man and a moment came;

writing rights - a proclamation of people’s hopes. 

Paine’s words spread paper cuts (clay white);

Dakota, Okeechobee and Aboukir

(maps changed colour).

The moment passed, the bar is empty,

seasons perfumed by Harvey’s hops.

 

Now by train, flock rising in track side shock,

I pass by the credit card community.

South Saxons were followed by gulls;

and birds still live on what we cast.

The town hall fledgling (like us) wasn’t ready, only hungry.

Succor tapping, wing cracking, momentary terror,

all so the cubs may live.

Bone Calcium remains jaw fragile.

 

Max, blue book in pocket, trousers fixed in calcite rigor

crafts his final line.

I nod greeting (chips again in hand).

The Empire is shut; the pier is shredded;

ruins washed daily.