Lurgan, Co. Armagh
There were plenty of women here
Many more women than men
Weavers, dyers and finishers
Scuttling along the banks of the Bann
Bleaching in Lough Neagh at Kinnego
Thirty feet in the air above Market Street
A bronze statue of Victorious Peace dries her wings
The only remaining virgin in Lurgan
Though I’ve since learnt that this is contested
Two million pounds to transform the town
Into something that reminds us what it once was
Friday 12th October, overcast with a chance of rain
Seamstress remains a favourite word.
Kicking Tyres
Fletcher Street, midday, ok? April leaves
Taken from limbs by a rare northerly wind
Tripping on pointe like loosed pinwheels
Over wet grasses, bitumen and driveways
Caught in puddles, against chain link fences
And the windscreen of a 1997 Ford Falcon
Factory fit towbar
1,500 ono
Dead radio
The trees in Locke Park silver and empty
Forgotten old people, razor clam shells and jellyfish
Wait quietly for something to come to them
Fire or spring tide, children with poking sticks
You wanna take her for a test drive then? Sure
Patchouli, sodden newsprint and football socks
The sweet telltale of ethylene glycol
Witness to a warped head
Rotten radiator
Goes alright doesn’t it? Pink noise low
Mist cloud tickled out of the road by tyres
Papers my aspect.
Docked, Dreaming
Fleet docked decks washed
A dozen or more in their pens
Made-up in moon glow and reflections like footlights
Faces of buoy pillows fastened tight to the rail
Wheezing creased at the middle and stuck with stale air
Might pop. Gunwale lines fall freehand from prow
The shape of momentum holding steady
Sleeping Sirens, noses sniffing seawind
Dreaming of fish and men with strong hands
Loose rope knit cradle roll and embrace
Rockabye
LA Brown is an Australian poet and writer living in Bristol England. His work can be found in The American Writers Review 2019 & 2020 print editions and online.
