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A Jolly Dystopian Ramble to the Oasis

  It felt like textbook psychogeography: Walking in a straight line along the old North Wilts Canal, In a ‘playful wandering exploration’, Reimagining the railway works and the seemingly endless sidings, Remembering where I used to train-spot and play football, Long before the advent of these seemingly endless roads.   We walked past the Victorian railway railings And the high red brick walls, With their seemingly endless graffiti, Despite the signs threatening hefty fines, Past an old railway iron gate with ornate columns, The double-lock once important for railway security, But the gates now lie open on a road to nowhere.   But the carefully wrought railings were a delight With a high-tide of creamy may blossom, With an occasional disconcerting cluster Of last autumn’s...

Why did I break the General Strike

  “Why did I break the strike and go into work?” you ask me. Because I’m a Company man, a GWR man,   A man who thinks that Sir Felix Pole sometimes knows best, A man who has grandchildren to feed and clothe, A man who needs the wage and can’t risk losing his job...

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Elsie

ELSIE a remembering Elsie, large and imposing, seated at her sewing machine. Her thick brown lisle stockings rolled down above the plaid slippered feet that waited on the treadle. Her grey hair pulled back into a bun. A few escaped wisps fall over her eyes. The...

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For the Benefit of Stroud Food Bank

For the benefit of Stroud Food Bank A match to honour and give thanks to those who struck a chord and blow This day a hundred years ago From North and South and West and East Again The Strikers face Police With helmets and flat caps they’ll play In mem’ry...

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