Andrew Taylor

Milky Way

Taking time over the melody taking care to 
decipher technique & avoiding Parisian 
queues last of the shorts as we hit the 
19th pretty dead horses galloping in the 
sun the cup pattern matches the carpet 
giant wheels that climb in the sky like a 
back room dice game aeroplanes all
around the gate’s open come in the light is 
a revelation dappling like in old French 
movies playing silently in the background 
golden brown French fries the last bit of 
the afternoon after the heat the rain nice 
& gentle the lane its summer dusk 
reflections a deer moves through white 
morning light glancing at the suggestion 
of movement stubble increasing uniformity 
golden across the way gruelling heat fire 
rest & breakdowns the 2nd pose in each 
other we search for answers engage in the 
feeling of not wasting time 2 pencil 
drawings in Bill’s ‘A Book of Split Cities’ 
empty the sail of rainwater caught in the 
storm magic of conversation score the text 
enable the flow in a different light fill the 
notebook with mementoes negatives 
strips run through read the bones starlight 
cast the Milky Way cloud builds in danger 
of becoming notorious retro chic of 
ecstasy inventories remnants of Mark’s 
recommendations carry the child back to 
the porch through the dust 3 chimneys rise

Hans & Ami

Across the way the parting sweeps left to
right weather rolls in the bird of peace
is not for the table the t-shirt has a pocket
Beth stands hands on hips to survey take
care eat coffee & plenty of stops start
the year on the road returning north loaded
stock bags packed fluids checked coats age
with time pockets hold the essentials in one
place to hand give a meadow its simplicity
& scale the near fern & slope re-fenced
red phone box mysteriously placed near
the centre commercial its fading paint indicative
of a failing nations chestnut & spring flower
honey ink shop stylos chapeaux et accessories
take the scenic route through the cobbled square
tricky in winter take a shower lie down stalks
begin to drift sweep the moss take to the avenue
though the market is quieter the produce is fresh
as ever English titles in the bookshop the warmth
is intoxicating centre quietness le pain quotidian
cloud rolls in within weeks the days will open up
there’ll be a glass raised to not thinking
stay in the frame browse paper’s sections ink
on the fingers backwards to the lane & the grinder
enamel pot on the stove very nice & no grogginess
Hans thinks Ami is slightly weirder

Centre Pink

Illuminated signs
the letting go phase
& tiptoe moments

mutual phased midnight
sounds for strings

cascading light
when back in drift
day flickers & stretched
volume becomes radiant

neon shifts beyond
journey’s affection

Rinse & Return

Trapper cabin for the night
hang clothes first hang pictures
high hydrangeas drying nicely as
Winter arrives read about easy
passage across the oller towards
tracks it gets busier bridge shelter
no-man’s land attractive proposition
of chasing the sun protection of quality
fabric walk rooftops looking for Jack
as he hits the valley leaves trapped
on a membrane eventually dust take
the long hammer finding light choose
colours wisely sound of winter tyres
on compacted snow make it fast as
comfort fades in honour of tradition
use the same notebook carry photos
& receipts monopolise viewing dust it
down before the holiday season blue
of nightingale backdrop track parcels
after departure cards along the partition
ferry cargo dull the ache welcoming smell
of pharmacy read back the script wrap
boxes & walk the hill leaves slowly
decompose writing instrument service
eat something the rice is perfect
scan the box collect chopsticks 
wear clothes in it may take a while 
from the porch the view is spectacular

Radiant Orchid

try the coffee from the colour chart
first sip carry the sack permission
to photograph at dawn natural light
at dawn before matins wait for
the Italian man to finish the roof
before winter unclear valley fog
horns in the bay under the eaves
raman cools matching outdoor temperatures 
plug the gaps Tom
takes his chances when the café is
closed mail piles up in the doorway
sleeping on sacks Xanax punch
take on water from the stream
sound of hammering & the many uses
of chicken wire meeting of algorithm
voices lens clean with solution
night brings with it the eyes again
reminder harvests the store work it
scents of evening candles take the
weight there’s something almost
celebratory about the making &
outcomes later & later counterbalance
whiteboard in the hall hot tea in the open
steam rising absolute events discreet
continuous pan the envelope recorded
carols French radio postcards on
the vestibule window shell walnuts
Cecil Taylor on vinyl fireworks in the garden


The mainline is 55km away is that 
an engine noise? Follow the route
one room to another deep into the sun
& parched landscape embrace the dust
cloud across the flatlands taking the
Rabelais room as a point Oiron — La 
Chaussee — Vienna heart meets the sky
in places with attendant interruptions pull 
boxes agricultural detritus roadside 
ditches pharmacy green cross welcome 
blue of shirt grey of trousers photograph 
bread bags appreciate artwork triangle of 
headgear perfect for sun deflection dust 
coats the creases pass the soap stamps 
entered into the notebooks tell a story 
shutters & curtains closed stagnant for 
effect dry products on straw map pouch 
to hand the small yellow notebook rescued 
from the machine a woman in a striped 
top is collecting berries from the hedgerow 
to be stored over winter concertina of the 
leaflet as it’s removed from the box the 
smell of quality inks keep an eye on the 
window from the lane collected from the 
station air sickness it’s not surprising roll 
the rug clean the floor spices gathered 
from the corner shop all the civilisations 
are here there’ll be apricots tomorrow

Andrew Taylor's previous collections include: Radio Mast Horizon, March, and Not There—Here (Shearsman Books). His latest book, Northangerland: (re)versions of the poetry of Branwell Bronte was published by Leafe Press in 2022. He is currently working towards a new collection. www.andrewtaylorpoetry.com
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