{"id":12251,"date":"2022-09-06T12:08:08","date_gmt":"2022-09-06T11:08:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12251"},"modified":"2024-11-26T20:27:25","modified_gmt":"2024-11-26T19:27:25","slug":"3-poems-8","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12251","title":{"rendered":"3 Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"<h2>Slow Cinema<\/h2>\n<p>Slow Cinema<br \/>\nYou\u2019re late<br \/>\nbut it doesn\u2019t matter with this one<br \/>\nsays the man just go on in<br \/>\nand the place is empty<br \/>\nso the film\u2019s showing to no one<br \/>\nand as it happens it happens<br \/>\nto be showing<br \/>\nan empty auditorium<br \/>\nmuch like the one you\u2019ve just sat down in<br \/>\nwith a stand of red raked seats<br \/>\nand a side door in the left wall<br \/>\nwhich after a while opens<br \/>\nand a woman walks in<br \/>\nwith a brace \u2013 or boot \u2013<br \/>\non one foot<br \/>\nwhich makes a loud clumping sound<br \/>\nas she walks slowly across the floor<br \/>\nin front of the seats.<br \/>\nYou feel the weight of it<br \/>\nas she climbs the central steps<br \/>\nlifting it behind her<br \/>\nbefore she turns down a row<br \/>\nand bends to pick something up<br \/>\nthen straightens and walks slowly<br \/>\nback along the row<br \/>\nback down the steps<br \/>\nplacing the braced foot carefully down before her<br \/>\nas if it were the most important part<br \/>\nof her body<br \/>\n(which being damaged<br \/>\nyou could say it was)<br \/>\nand back she goes<\/p>\n<p>along the front of the seats<br \/>\nand out the side door<br \/>\nleaving you sitting there<br \/>\nin the empty auditorium<br \/>\nwatching the red seats<br \/>\nand listening to the silence<br \/>\nwhich now she has left it has changed.<br \/>\nIf anything it is more whole.<br \/>\nWhat it had been waiting for<br \/>\nhas happened so now<br \/>\nit can fold in on itself<br \/>\nand open out \u2013<br \/>\nfold in on itself<br \/>\nand open out \u2026<br \/>\noh what is this mystery that is<br \/>\nanother person who is<br \/>\nessentially you<br \/>\nwho haven\u2019t dared go back<br \/>\nto look for the lost thing<br \/>\nfor fear of the sound<br \/>\nyour heart would make<br \/>\nfear that if you found it<br \/>\nit would mean nothing<br \/>\nand everything<br \/>\nwould be the same.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><!--nextpage--><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h2>Remote<\/h2>\n<p>A man is prodding something on a grill<br \/>\nusing a long pair of tongs.<br \/>\nA boy is holding a blue book<br \/>\nwhose cover has the words<br \/>\n<em>Heroes of Olympus<\/em> in yellow.<br \/>\nThere\u2019s a woman too and she is holding a glass.<br \/>\n&#8216;I like the idea of a cool red&#8217;<br \/>\nshe says to no one in particular.<br \/>\nPerhaps she doesn\u2019t even say it.<br \/>\nA low brick wall runs around the property.<br \/>\nThey have paid a substantial amount<br \/>\nto feel a certain kind of exclusivity and it\u2019s true<br \/>\nthe wall goes some way to doing that.<br \/>\nYou know where you are<br \/>\nand also \u2013 just there over the wall \u2013 where you are not.<br \/>\nIt\u2019s also been incredibly hot.<br \/>\nThis too is something they have paid for<br \/>\nand the pool with its constant low functioning hum.<br \/>\nEverything is quiet now it\u2019s evening \u2013<br \/>\neven the boy who is deep in the making<br \/>\nit more complicated and clarification that is literature.<br \/>\nBut I don\u2019t want to make too much of that here.<br \/>\nI want to watch the woman sip her drink<br \/>\nand not think. I want to be here<br \/>\nwhere there\u2019s a pair of large electric gates<br \/>\nthat open very slowly and very slowly close<br \/>\nso that each of their comings and goings<br \/>\nhas become something of a ritual<br \/>\nas if the move from here to there<br \/>\nwere full of significance<br \/>\nand laborious to achieve.<br \/>\nSometimes the boy likes to play with the remote<br \/>\n\u2013 pause the gates at a particular point<br \/>\nso that they\u2019re neither open nor closed<br \/>\nwhich his parents don\u2019t like.<br \/>\nHis father gets angry: &#8216;what are you doing?&#8217;<br \/>\nand there\u2019s a moment of bright tension<br \/>\nas the boy looks up at the man<br \/>\nbecause it\u2019s perfectly clear to him what he\u2019s doing<br \/>\nwith the gates suspended there<br \/>\nin time and the space<br \/>\nbetween them probably just enough for him<br \/>\n\u2013 and he\u2019d love this, their little fleet-footed one \u2013<br \/>\nto slip through and run down the lane<br \/>\nholding the remote up high, turning to laugh at them<br \/>\nstranded there behind the gates.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><!--nextpage--><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h2>Clay<\/h2>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>And so it was\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0with every passing year<br \/>\nmore and more\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 the fear<br \/>\n(is that too strong?)\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0yes the fear<br \/>\nof going back\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0knowing it might hurt<br \/>\nto walk\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0back along<br \/>\nthat old dirt path\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0beside the canal<br \/>\nthat damp stone smell\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0in early spring<br \/>\nthat length of thin\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0brown water<br \/>\nslumped\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0in the dark<br \/>\nof a sun-sharp\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0day<br \/>\ndeep in the shade\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 of the high brick wall<br \/>\nof the old steel factory\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 with its windows broken<br \/>\nall but one\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0still lit<br \/>\nchunking out the last rivets\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 of the century<br \/>\nin that\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0soft historical dusk<br \/>\nin which I knew\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0even then I knew<br \/>\nthat it might hurt\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 the day I went back<br \/>\nand had my heart\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0rearranged<br \/>\nby all that was and was\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 no longer there<br \/>\nhow would I bear\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0that sudden blossoming<br \/>\nspring smell\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 the clay and damp<br \/>\nearly evening smell\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 that place old<br \/>\nbefore its time\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0its line of dead water<br \/>\nbut then it came\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0I knew it would<br \/>\nnobody made me\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0just one day<br \/>\nthere with time\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 and a certain indifference<br \/>\nto my life\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 as a thing lived<br \/>\nby any particular person\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 including myself<br \/>\nso there I was\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0walking the path<br \/>\ntowards the place (my\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0heart starting to go a little)<br \/>\nwhen I fell in step\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 behind a man<br \/>\ncarrying a red bucket\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 in one hand<br \/>\nin the other\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 a blue mop<br \/>\nall new\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 and wrapped in plastic<br \/>\nand as I slowed\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0and stared at the back<br \/>\nof his crumpled suit\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0I started to think<br \/>\nabout the man\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0and the moment<br \/>\nhe realised\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0that he was the one<br \/>\nthat no one else\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0was going to do it for him<br \/>\nand the time had come\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 so here he was<br \/>\nwalking towards\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0what had to be done<br \/>\ntowards the newly-converted\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 factory flats<br \/>\nwhere a floor\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0lay waiting<br \/>\nand I knew\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0and perhaps he did too<br \/>\nthat no matter what\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 he did no matter<br \/>\nhow many times\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0he went back<br \/>\nand forth\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 with the mop<br \/>\nthe floor would never\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0be the same again<br \/>\nnot like it was\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0when it was first laid down<br \/>\nbefore\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 all the walking<br \/>\nor before\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0when it was just tiles piled up on pallets<br \/>\nstill warm\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0from the cutting<br \/>\nor before before\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0when it was part of the damp earth<br \/>\nupon whose surface\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0a person would walk<br \/>\nafraid\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 they might get hurt<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Slow Cinema Slow Cinema You\u2019re late but it doesn\u2019t matter with this one says the man just go on in and the place is empty so the film\u2019s showing to no one and as it happens it happens to be showing an empty auditorium much like the one you\u2019ve just sat down in with a [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":373,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[408,405],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v20.2.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>3 Poems - The Manchester Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12251\" \/>\n<link rel=\"next\" href=\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12251&page=2\" 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