{"id":4286,"date":"2014-12-07T23:16:20","date_gmt":"2014-12-07T23:16:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286"},"modified":"2014-12-07T23:18:50","modified_gmt":"2014-12-07T23:18:50","slug":"three-poems-6","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286","title":{"rendered":"Three Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"

Key To A Map<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

The stammering footpaths pull your eye
\nacross the dyslexic geometry of fields,
\naround blue chip meres and spilling woods.<\/p>\n

A s\u00e9ance tap of dead lanes
\nturning up as potato cobbles under the plough
\nor leaping the M6 levee between hamlets and barns.<\/p>\n

All day the fast lane hums
\nwith ghost herdsmen, labourers, farm hands
\nvaulting the memory of a style over cats\u2019 eyes.<\/p>\n

And all night the same ghosts cross
\nas suitors, drinkers, poachers
\nor the booted lay preachers of Northwood Chapel,<\/p>\n

returned the cuckoo spit miles from Booth Bank or Lymm,
\nthe Word sown, their hobnails sparking
\nhard shoulder tongues of fire.
\n <\/p>\n

 
\n
\nThe Domesday Book Entry For High Legh Village<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

It is as simple as notes of sheep wool
\nacross barbed wire staves.
\n\u201cWulfgeat and Dot held it as 2 manors;<\/em>
\n they were free men.\u201d<\/em>
\nTwo manors: even then High Legh carried
\nthe seed of morse hamlets coded over
\na few square arable miles.
\n\u201cA priest and a church, with 1 villager<\/em>
\n and 2 smallholders\u201d<\/em>
\nYou puzzle over a congregation of three
\nand idle on until ambushed.
\n\u201c1 of Gilbert\u2019s men has \u00bd plough<\/em>
\n and 3 slaves.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

At seven on Good Friday morning
\nthe A50\u2019s air was empty, an almost trucial quiet
\nover Avenues and Walks in the joggerless estate,
\nthe white Bear\u2019s Paw Inn and muckless
\nconverted barns, brown brick cottages
\nflaunting yellow garden slides,
\nthe bungalows of farmers tired of muck.<\/p>\n

A question elbows into the silence:
\nwhere, once,
\nin all this openness and hedged-about coping,
\nwas the last sentence in the entry?
\nWhat would now be choked
\nby the wood
\nthree miles long and a mile and a half wide,
\nthe trunks pile-driven through kitchens,
\nbranches puncturing poster-covered walls,
\nthickets upturning Range Rovers,
\nthe canopy\u2019s blind migraine?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
\n
\nSanctuary Wood<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

To reach the wood
\nyou pass through a worn pornography
\nof war, a room of splayed shrapnel,
\nhorse tibiae slipped white from the earth,
\nleather peep-holed cases
\nto crank through sepia corpses.
\nThe wood\u2019s acre,
\nstill scooped from shells,
\ngrassless from tourists feet
\nand leaf burst branches,
\nis a relief, and in wet trenches
\nfixed in their 11 11 11 weave
\nyou can pity rotting feet
\nand the necessity of rum.<\/p>\n

But for Sanctuary Wood
\npornography and pathos alone are too sane.
\nSo next door, \u2018The Museum\u2019,
\na tidy 1960s house, gnomes at the porch,
\nand behind dormer windows in dustless rooms
\na masked mannequin child
\nwatches a mannequin Tommy bleed in a bed,
\ncheery Poilus stab and garrotte Boches
\nin sunny pastel prints
\nand the way to the bedrooms is pointed
\nby serrated bayonets
\nscrewed to floral wallpaper.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Key To A Map The stammering footpaths pull your eye across the dyslexic geometry of fields, around blue chip meres and spilling woods. A s\u00e9ance tap of dead lanes turning up as potato cobbles under the plough or leaping the M6 levee between hamlets and barns. All day the fast lane hums with ghost herdsmen, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":107,"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":[312,315],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\nThree 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=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286\" \/>\n<link rel=\"next\" href=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286&page=2\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Three Poems - The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Key To A Map The stammering footpaths pull your eye across the dyslexic geometry of fields, around blue chip meres and spilling woods. A s\u00e9ance tap of dead lanes turning up as potato cobbles under the plough or leaping the M6 levee between hamlets and barns. All day the fast lane hums with ghost herdsmen, […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2014-12-07T23:16:20+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2014-12-07T23:18:50+00:00\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Julian Flanagan\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Julian Flanagan\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"2 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286\",\"url\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286\",\"name\":\"Three Poems - The Manchester Review\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#website\"},\"datePublished\":\"2014-12-07T23:16:20+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2014-12-07T23:18:50+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/70d59caba6186bb1dc30631f70cd4067\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#website\",\"url\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/\",\"name\":\"The Manchester Review\",\"description\":\"The Manchester Review\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":\"required name=search_term_string\"}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/70d59caba6186bb1dc30631f70cd4067\",\"name\":\"Julian Flanagan\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/wp-includes\/images\/blank.gif\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/wp-includes\/images\/blank.gif\",\"caption\":\"Julian Flanagan\"},\"description\":\"Julian Flanagan was born in Peru in 1962, raised in Cheshire, educated at the LSE and lives in London with his wife and three children. His poems have appeared in Ambit, Envoi, The Frogmore Papers, The Interpreter\u2019s House, Iota, Orbis, The Penniless Press, The Rialto, Smith\u2019s Knoll, The Spectator and Tandem. A freelance journalist, his articles, interviews and assortments have appeared in The FT Magazine, Time Out, The Independent On Sunday, The Daily Telegraph, The FT Weekend and on economist.com.\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?author=107\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"Three Poems - The Manchester Review","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286","next":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286&page=2","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"Three Poems - The Manchester Review","og_description":"Key To A Map The stammering footpaths pull your eye across the dyslexic geometry of fields, around blue chip meres and spilling woods. A s\u00e9ance tap of dead lanes turning up as potato cobbles under the plough or leaping the M6 levee between hamlets and barns. All day the fast lane hums with ghost herdsmen, […]","og_url":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286","og_site_name":"The Manchester Review","article_published_time":"2014-12-07T23:16:20+00:00","article_modified_time":"2014-12-07T23:18:50+00:00","author":"Julian Flanagan","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Julian Flanagan","Est. reading time":"2 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286","url":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286","name":"Three Poems - The Manchester Review","isPartOf":{"@id":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#website"},"datePublished":"2014-12-07T23:16:20+00:00","dateModified":"2014-12-07T23:18:50+00:00","author":{"@id":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/70d59caba6186bb1dc30631f70cd4067"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4286"]}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#website","url":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/","name":"The Manchester Review","description":"The Manchester Review","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":"required name=search_term_string"}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/70d59caba6186bb1dc30631f70cd4067","name":"Julian Flanagan","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/wp-includes\/images\/blank.gif","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/wp-includes\/images\/blank.gif","caption":"Julian Flanagan"},"description":"Julian Flanagan was born in Peru in 1962, raised in Cheshire, educated at the LSE and lives in London with his wife and three children. His poems have appeared in Ambit, Envoi, The Frogmore Papers, The Interpreter\u2019s House, Iota, Orbis, The Penniless Press, The Rialto, Smith\u2019s Knoll, The Spectator and Tandem. A freelance journalist, his articles, interviews and assortments have appeared in The FT Magazine, Time Out, The Independent On Sunday, The Daily Telegraph, The FT Weekend and on economist.com.","url":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?author=107"}]}},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2PuXo-178","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4286"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/107"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4286"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4286\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4443,"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4286\/revisions\/4443"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4286"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4286"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4286"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}