Intermittent Faults
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INTERMITTENT FAULTS
poems from a journal
David Lightfoot
INTERMITTENT FAULTS poems from a journal
David Lightfoot
Sunk Island Publishing
Intermittent Faults © David Lightfoot, 2008 Sunk Island Publishing c/o 7 Lee Avenue, Heighington, Lincoln, LN4 1RD Cover design by Michael Blackburn Other Works
[give me a list of what you want included]
09/01/08 Cold so piercing I cannot feel my own fingers let alone the golf club. Despite my three-week beard the wind numbs my cheeks. But four hours later, the mushroom soup! And the baked rolls and melting butter! It does not take much to hint at heaven.
12/01/08 We've had gas-boiler failure, electric power-cut. Today it's rats seen in the front hedge squirming like squirrels, climbing like monkeys, eating the seeds put out for birds, who swarm around them, happily sharing, while I scatter the warfarin down the rat-holes. I am not as nice as a finch.
14/01/08 QUOCUMQUE IECERIS, STABO. They trimmed the hedges this morning. A special machine mashed branches down to a uniform six feet. A neat job - from a distance. Closer to, they'd sprayed our garden with blackthorn caltrops. Wherever our dog runs there are vet's bills waiting. Took me an hour to rake up, still post-flu sweaty. In the Spring the hedges will sprout thicker, greener, trimmer, even more exclusive. Right now they look the mess I feel.
15/0l/08 This could be it. At last to enter a house and feel, at once, at home. What clinched it was the distant view towards a hill - an echo of my boyhood from the study window, flat land suddenly rising, a ridge enclosing, excluding, hinting at what lies over and beyond.
21/0l/08 Rain again, and more rain: flood warnings, sirens, the Lud brimming, sand-bags around doors, anxious faces, voices, valuables carried upstairs. "We can't go on living like this, watching the rain fall worrying. It's no life!' In Africa they watch the sky for clouds any hope of a shower.
29/01/08 So it's to be oblivion again. This is the third surgeon who won't do local but prefers general anaesthetic. Why is this? Ts he afraid of failure to locate the nerve? Being taken to court? He does not consider what I am afraid of.
06/02/08 Ash Wednesday: turntable time; sinking fire.
l1/02/08 Returning again to Hardings for another viewing and measuring, inspection of garden fences, it all began to fit into the frame of likelihood. This is going to be where we will spend the rest of our married life. One of us will die here.
13/02/08 The day began bright but cooled into mist. After three holes a tsunami of cold grey fog advanced towards us down the fairway Eventually a claxon suspended play. Dreadful, dreaded phrase: play suspended.
27/02/08 A roaring like the Pentecostal wind, a rattling of windows and a crash as if a lorry had bit the house? the gas terminal had exploded? someone was breaking in to grab that box full of one hundred and ninety-eight copies of Rosary Sonnets? A quick search in pyjamas, bare feet in old shoes, by torchlight, revealed nothing. Turned out it was an earthquake, epicentred down the road near Osgodby, which finally made the National TV News. Later, in Louth, I saw my former neighbour, a Jehovah's Witness pinning someone to a wall.
08/03/08 That back to normal feeling: switch on, the engine fires, you drive away, no sweat. Despite the foul forecast, the weather holds. You start your round early, finish even sooner. For once, everything is dangerously convenient.
10/03/08 A flock of woodpigeons swarm on Boggle Hill as if it were Trafalgar Square, feeding shoulder to shoulder on something invisible. They rise up togther from time to time like starlings in a swirling scarf of grey, then settle on the brown wold, moving across the raked earth like police searching for a murder weapon.
17/03/08 Saint Patrick's Day and a pint of Guinness before we signed the contract for the house. The sense of things falling into place like boulders on a scree slope.
18/03/08 Today came a gas bill from the planet Eon for The Occupier: £2,649 only! - the price of putting off payment, an accumulation of debt for someone, the previous tenant, who must have had an attitude to tomorrow worthy of Matthew chapter six.
Sunk Island Titles
Eskeleth And Apples, Michael Blackburn Let’s Build A City, Michael Blackburn Trees On Bear Road, Brendan Cleary Holograph, Pam Thompson All at £3.50 each, cheques payable to Michael Blackburn, Sunk Island Publishing, 7 Lee Avenue, Heighington, Lincoln, LN4 1RD, UK. Or via PayPal: [email protected] [email protected] http://sunkislandreview.blogspot.com
David Lightfoot is a poet and novelist living in Lincolnshire. Previous publications include collections of poetry - Down Green Lanes and Wounds Heal, and a novel, Winterman's Company. He was a also co-founder and editor of Seam magazine in the 1990s. The poems in Intermittent Faults are selected from a journal.
£3.50 ISBN
poems from a journal
David Lightfoot
INTERMITTENT FAULTS poems from a journal
David Lightfoot
Sunk Island Publishing
Intermittent Faults © David Lightfoot, 2008 Sunk Island Publishing c/o 7 Lee Avenue, Heighington, Lincoln, LN4 1RD Cover design by Michael Blackburn Other Works
[give me a list of what you want included]
09/01/08 Cold so piercing I cannot feel my own fingers let alone the golf club. Despite my three-week beard the wind numbs my cheeks. But four hours later, the mushroom soup! And the baked rolls and melting butter! It does not take much to hint at heaven.
12/01/08 We've had gas-boiler failure, electric power-cut. Today it's rats seen in the front hedge squirming like squirrels, climbing like monkeys, eating the seeds put out for birds, who swarm around them, happily sharing, while I scatter the warfarin down the rat-holes. I am not as nice as a finch.
14/01/08 QUOCUMQUE IECERIS, STABO. They trimmed the hedges this morning. A special machine mashed branches down to a uniform six feet. A neat job - from a distance. Closer to, they'd sprayed our garden with blackthorn caltrops. Wherever our dog runs there are vet's bills waiting. Took me an hour to rake up, still post-flu sweaty. In the Spring the hedges will sprout thicker, greener, trimmer, even more exclusive. Right now they look the mess I feel.
15/0l/08 This could be it. At last to enter a house and feel, at once, at home. What clinched it was the distant view towards a hill - an echo of my boyhood from the study window, flat land suddenly rising, a ridge enclosing, excluding, hinting at what lies over and beyond.
21/0l/08 Rain again, and more rain: flood warnings, sirens, the Lud brimming, sand-bags around doors, anxious faces, voices, valuables carried upstairs. "We can't go on living like this, watching the rain fall worrying. It's no life!' In Africa they watch the sky for clouds any hope of a shower.
29/01/08 So it's to be oblivion again. This is the third surgeon who won't do local but prefers general anaesthetic. Why is this? Ts he afraid of failure to locate the nerve? Being taken to court? He does not consider what I am afraid of.
06/02/08 Ash Wednesday: turntable time; sinking fire.
l1/02/08 Returning again to Hardings for another viewing and measuring, inspection of garden fences, it all began to fit into the frame of likelihood. This is going to be where we will spend the rest of our married life. One of us will die here.
13/02/08 The day began bright but cooled into mist. After three holes a tsunami of cold grey fog advanced towards us down the fairway Eventually a claxon suspended play. Dreadful, dreaded phrase: play suspended.
27/02/08 A roaring like the Pentecostal wind, a rattling of windows and a crash as if a lorry had bit the house? the gas terminal had exploded? someone was breaking in to grab that box full of one hundred and ninety-eight copies of Rosary Sonnets? A quick search in pyjamas, bare feet in old shoes, by torchlight, revealed nothing. Turned out it was an earthquake, epicentred down the road near Osgodby, which finally made the National TV News. Later, in Louth, I saw my former neighbour, a Jehovah's Witness pinning someone to a wall.
08/03/08 That back to normal feeling: switch on, the engine fires, you drive away, no sweat. Despite the foul forecast, the weather holds. You start your round early, finish even sooner. For once, everything is dangerously convenient.
10/03/08 A flock of woodpigeons swarm on Boggle Hill as if it were Trafalgar Square, feeding shoulder to shoulder on something invisible. They rise up togther from time to time like starlings in a swirling scarf of grey, then settle on the brown wold, moving across the raked earth like police searching for a murder weapon.
17/03/08 Saint Patrick's Day and a pint of Guinness before we signed the contract for the house. The sense of things falling into place like boulders on a scree slope.
18/03/08 Today came a gas bill from the planet Eon for The Occupier: £2,649 only! - the price of putting off payment, an accumulation of debt for someone, the previous tenant, who must have had an attitude to tomorrow worthy of Matthew chapter six.
Sunk Island Titles
Eskeleth And Apples, Michael Blackburn Let’s Build A City, Michael Blackburn Trees On Bear Road, Brendan Cleary Holograph, Pam Thompson All at £3.50 each, cheques payable to Michael Blackburn, Sunk Island Publishing, 7 Lee Avenue, Heighington, Lincoln, LN4 1RD, UK. Or via PayPal: [email protected] [email protected] http://sunkislandreview.blogspot.com
David Lightfoot is a poet and novelist living in Lincolnshire. Previous publications include collections of poetry - Down Green Lanes and Wounds Heal, and a novel, Winterman's Company. He was a also co-founder and editor of Seam magazine in the 1990s. The poems in Intermittent Faults are selected from a journal.
£3.50 ISBN
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