This poem is a bit of fun, made up of the titles of the poetry collections that I find on my bookshelves, plus one or two novels and short story collections, most of them by friends. See credits below.
Tilting at titles
(a found poem)
After 60 years of loving
it’s just you, me and the birds
working out the meaning of flight
while my family and other superheroes
are playing house
and the kith are strumming a banjo
until the dying notes fade
into the spaces in between.
We tilt and listen
to the thought of fresh rain
while turning the pages of
the scrap book
and we write in the fire diary
and we look
to find the road towards humanity
and to search out the white tower
and, maybe, to come back to Avalon,
or perhaps we’ll just end up at no. 52
on the Broadstairs road and be
in Margate by lunchtime.
With thanks to:
Maggie Harris, Alan Kellerman, Christopher Meredith, Jonathan Edwards, Katherine Stansfield, Jo Bell, Samantha Wynne Rhydderch, Reuben Woolley, Ros Hudis, Martin Locock, Adam Horovitz, Carly Holmes, Dave Urwin, Liz Whittaker, Ann Byrne-Sutton and the 52 project.