Annie Jackson Poems

Obeys physics:
Plucked from cloud,
Chauffeured to Earth
Inside twelve seconds.
...

‘L Dorado! ’
I have greeted her.
Her lips flicker:
her eyes remain –
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Woke up this morning like James
Bomb; like a Blues song gone wrong.
Dismantled my socks to stitch
the hole in my knees. I kept
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Winter’s in the blue corner:
summer’s in the red.
The mittens are off –
Britain’s Got Talons –
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For granted you took your body cogs, oiling them with tar
But all workers need refreshment – even automata.
Eighteen months later, the service is largely lip:
“The weekend Dad’s body betrayed him. What karma! ”
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As my car tiptoes towards the usual craggy cliff-face and
My eyes screw tight with ostrich logic, it occurs to me:
In any isolated year, loads of seasoned travellers
Pace the same loose-stone terrain.
...