Circling

I am tired of circling
routes on Uckfield’s
side streets & build-
readied fields – trips

on trips [on crooked
paths & quick ‘cross
grass verges at busy
points] – A floodable

house fears rain-fall
& shit-brown risings
up its sloped garden
[he prays for storms

& deluges] – We sour
around pub tables &
pour disparagement
on others out of ear-

shot – we steer every
story round to us [&
confirmations of our
infallibility] – I tire of

foot-worn ways over
others’ plots – even a
hectare of rain-water
will fail to drown ires