To all who have been disturbed in their sleep by youths search for security


On great black machines

that bat flit at night

these modern Draculas,

swooping vampires,

make lightning raids

on pensioners milk bottles.

Then flushed with victory

rev into daring oblivion,

clutching their spoils of war

while poor pussy wonders

at

his

missing morning milk.

(Original drawing by Eimear Connelly, Middlesex University, London)

Old Houses

Old Houses

The old, old houses were leaning

at crazy angles to the road.

Here, no women were weaning.

Image  None have the load

of young children here.

Within these walls, all is dead

and gone.  Only tall weeds peer

through ruins, a rat lifts his head

from his busy work, blinks,

scampers, returns whence

he came.  At night a bat winks

his hunter’s eyes and no fence

guards here, where the garbage stinks.