Crossing Wolves

Wolverhampton, pressure vessel, factory
Wolverhampton, railway bridge, bricks

Crossing:  the act or process of traveling across.

 

Coming down on the Pendeford  Bridge, Pond Bay, 

the first building of the day 

the first factory through the wire,

industrial desire

it’s always been that way

History looks different these days.

 

Imperial pride, passenger ride

a hundred million bricks still hold back the sky

Oxley and Aldersley, Claregate and Compton

no connection any more

know the reason why.

Wolverhampton, Oxley, city street
Canal bridge, flaking paint, concrete
Wolverhampton, canal lock, waste incinerator, chimey

There

is

no

gain

without

change

and

no

change

without

loss.

 

There

is

no

gain

without

loss.

Industrial thunder

Warehouse rumbles, industrial thunder

we’re making the weather these days

up here for the thinking, down there for the dancing

that’s what the graffiti says.

Rolling mill, fabrication

drawing thread, spinning twine

production line, be mine.

 

The thunder is fading, bu the storm keeps rising,

we're still pumping, no compromising.

We don't know what the future will be

a degree warmer, a meter of sea?

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This is life, what do we know?

 

Just another millionaire,

stock market fool,

gold rush cool,

a moth to the flame.

Hired gun,

his mothers son,

no one is to blame.

Be the healer, wheeler dealer.

 

Material wealth brings some comfort,

the pleasure principle brings its gains,

relief from our pains.

We are chemical beings,

with electrical brains.

 

Where do we go when we close our eyes,

trying to aspire to brighter skies,

what have we got, other than how we feel,

self harm escape is the saddest deal.

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Prayer for the Wolves: eight thirty on a Blakenhall morning

 

I see a woman hold a polished copper bowl above her head, pour a milky libation, pause, and pray to the sun rising over the Niphon building across Lower Villiers street. 

 

Sometimes the distance between a prayer and a love song is so small, that’s a place I’d love to live.

 

Say a prayer for the ones with the power

who give birth and devour.

A prayer for the wolves

and the ones they pull down,

victims of the cutting teeth,

who labour with passion and vision and belief.

 

I am not naive, will not be overwhelmed, though I grieve.

 

I see solutions, 

sometimes have my doubt,

with all my soul I want to shout,

I’m cross, have crossed, been crossed,

will not be crossed out.