Oulton John, written by Tim Gardiner at Spillwords.com

Oulton John

Oulton John

written by: Tim Gardiner



Ten years have passed since I was made redundant from Pleasurewood Hills. Busking on the corner of Marsh Road is a thankless task, perhaps I’d be better off by the pub with its ramshackle sign.

lying utchman
with missing teeth
I smile at you

I don’t get booked anymore, the live slots on Harbour Radio a distant pleasure. I’m lucky to make a fiver a day on these streets, most people don’t understand the sacrifice.

summer storm
heavy rain fills
a tatty cap

After a successful afternoon for a change, I’m twenty quid up walking down the long track to the broad.

tent collapse
the water poplar
still standing

The will-o’-the-wisp flickers like a flame in the breeze. Restless, I gaze up from the bivouac, a clearing sky stained by the Milky Way.

space station
Andromeda chained
to her reflection

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