{"id":5243,"date":"2016-01-11T18:30:41","date_gmt":"2016-01-11T17:30:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=5243"},"modified":"2016-01-12T15:17:19","modified_gmt":"2016-01-12T14:17:19","slug":"three-poems-14","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=5243","title":{"rendered":"Three Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"

Dilemma<\/p>\n

That girl with that face
\nand from that part of the world.<\/p>\n

Who commits daily assaults against \u2018th\u2019
\nyet respects every syllable
\nin \u2018strawberry\u2019.<\/p>\n

With that shape and heft and
\nmagnitude of backside.<\/p>\n

Got an arse on \u2018er that rolls like the moors.<\/em><\/p>\n

At The Grove she guides the mop
\nacross the floor
\nlike her Rastafarian lover.<\/p>\n

The nerve: knocking on our doors<\/em>
\n with hot things like some bloody Gypsy.<\/em><\/p>\n

Gypsy she be in that oversized coat,<\/em>
\n in them ugly boots and<\/em>
\n a pair of socks up to th\u2019 knee.<\/em><\/p>\n

I wonder: how do they tell \u2018em<\/em>
\n one from t\u2019other?<\/em><\/p>\n

If you get close you\u2019ll see
\nthere\u2019s a tiger
\nthat leaps from her eyes.<\/p>\n

Speaking of close, this is a long distance
\nfrom Birming\u2019um.<\/p>\n

Good God, she talks and touches<\/em>
\n talks and touches: forever<\/em>
\n slapping our knees, patting us<\/em>
\n on the arm.<\/em><\/p>\n

Then walks through our town<\/em>
\n with something that smells<\/em>
\n too much like longing.<\/em><\/p>\n

What does one do
\nWhat does one do
\nabout such
\na person?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Two Views of Exmouth<\/p>\n

The girl at the bottom of Phillips Street.
\nShe sees me. She draws up
\nas if shot by an arrow
\nthen crosses, brittle
\nwith her own poison.<\/p>\n

That classmate \u2013 if I
\nam critical of that example
\nof Brit. Literature,
\nit\u2019s because
\nI\u2019ve \u201cmissed something\u201d.<\/p>\n

And the lecturer
\ncross-legged, bespectacled
\npronouncing as solemn as gospel:
\n\u201cpeople will laugh at you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Plus the few black faces,
\n                    caught in glimpses
\non the High Street. How they small up
\nthemselves; how they empty their eyes
\nof fire.<\/p>\n

That morning
\nthe swarm of boys, clustered
\non the pavement, the ball disintegrating
\nlong enough for coarse voices
\nto shout
\nto the olive one among them:
\nLook! Another nigger!<\/p>\n

But, nevermind:<\/p>\n

When you go shopping in Exmouth, be prepared<\/em>
\n for a unique experience, focused<\/em>
\n around fair trade and local sourcing<\/em><\/p>\n

of products. There\u2019s Exeter Road and Albion Hill<\/em>
\n offering a huge range of independent traders<\/em>
\n selling almost everything<\/em>
\n you can think of.<\/em><\/p>\n

The Magnolia Centre and the Parade<\/em>
\n mix well-known High Street brands<\/em>
\n with local independent stores, including<\/em>
\n butchers, greengrocers, bakers,<\/em>
\n fashion shops and<\/em>
\n music shops.<\/em><\/p>\n

Around the recently re-developed<\/em>
\n Strand area is Exmouth\u2019s Caf\u00e9 Quarter,<\/em>
\n with a range of restaurants, coffee shops,<\/em>
\n bars and other food and drink outlets. However,<\/em>
\n here too you will find art shops,<\/em>
\n a traditional fish-mongers and lots<\/em>
\n more shops to spend time browsing<\/em>
\n for bargains and curios.<\/em><\/p>\n

And don\u2019t forget to visit the award-<\/em>
\n winning Exmouth Indoor Market,<\/em>
\n with 50 stalls under one roof<\/em>
\n with a whole variety of local<\/em>
\n produce, products and<\/em>
\n gift ideas!<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

(Words in italics adapted from www.exmouth-guide.co.uk)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Perspective<\/p>\n

It requires a steady gaze
\nto take it all in \u2013
\nthe Exe the shade of tin
\nthe cliffs compressing Time
\ninto layers of cake.<\/p>\n

Millions of years after the Mesozoic,
\na black man getting off the train
\nfrom St. David\u2019s, bundled up
\nand except for Exmouth, ordinary,
\nonly I recording the light in his eye.<\/p>\n

This landscape stirs
\na quiet dismantling of self:
\nlike tree-thick, leaf-littered Woodbury,
\nwhere, awed and disconnected, I stumbled
\nfrom an interview into kind people, who<\/p>\n

allowed me a phone call
\nin a place so damp and quiet and cold,
\nit was an alternate universe, in
\nan alternate universe.<\/p>\n

In this old place so much is new.
\nI make daily voyages into Somerfield:
\nan explosion of nationalities, when
\nBritish identity is challenge enough.<\/p>\n

Things to get used to
\n(and soon things to forget):
\nceleriac, lychees, satsumas, baguettes.
\nA boxed lunch of Red Curry, redolent
\nof lemongrass, shatters my notions
\nof geera and coriander.<\/p>\n

And the things left for last:
\nthe way they flinch when in talking
\nI touch them, forgetting the distance
\nand the difference
\nin weather;
\nand one chilly morning up Rolle Street
\na grinning carful of blokes
\ngiving me the finger.<\/p>\n

But this is also part of the picture:
\nthe mother in the house on Waverley —
\nplump children and the run-down yard
\nthat almost broke my resolve.
\nYet she said yes to bottle after bottle
\nof my spices.<\/p>\n

Would she know her generosity saved me
\na million years of cynicism?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Dilemma That girl with that face and from that part of the world. Who commits daily assaults against \u2018th\u2019 yet respects every syllable in \u2018strawberry\u2019. With that shape and heft and magnitude of backside. Got an arse on \u2018er that rolls like the moors. At The Grove she guides the mop across the floor like […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":142,"featured_media":5375,"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":[327,328],"tags":[326],"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=\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=5243\" \/>\n<link rel=\"next\" href=\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=5243&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=\"Dilemma That girl with that face and from that part of the world. 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