Standing by the river, where my father stood,
Waiting for something other than the tide.
He walked these banks
With a stone in his mouth
And pebbles for eyes.
The bed the pit, the tide the pendulum.
Flash flood or trickle slow
Run smooth by the waters flow. Or
I feel uncomfortable.
Lunar violence holds the water like a scythe
Whilst towns talk of regeneration
I think I will be swallowed whole.
Run smooth by flash flood or trickle slow.
Death of a generation.
Before the banks give birth
To impregnated waters
I see on the foreign shore
That the man, the stone,
The water and torrents,
Are not the same.
Inexorable waves crash quandary
On Mobius stripped tides.
Did we think we were new?
Callum Boath is a people’s people person who prefers having a dessert rather than a starter. Regardless of the courses, you will find him outside for a cigarette during the interval. He doesn’t eat out often.