Friday, 17 August 2012
BLOG EXTRA - Nighthawks
While at university, one exercise we had to do was to look at a painting and then write a poem based on it. One poem we were shown was Nighthawks.
Ham sandwiches stacked up neatly on the cake stand.
It’s clear at night and through the rumble,
the flick of a dishcloth echoes through glass.
Staring down I count the spike stripes,
jumping, concrete heavy, between the cracks.
There is a glob of pink bubble gum
stuck under a soul by the bar stool -
It’s caught in the yellow light from bare bulbs.
Bubble gum on its way home.