Stonework

Down the valley from the town
An old cotton mill provides
Modern, tastefully developed
Executive accommodation

As the advertisements claim:
Village life accommodation, with a nearby wealthy
Town community; electric gates, double garages
With elevators to totally safe environments

The mill, a century earlier
Had been a place of graft, of industry
Driven by water wheels
The buildings had teemed over with factory workers

Many who were no more than children
Weaving, spinning, combing, finishing...

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Manifesto Is It

Eventually Joe opened the folder
He had wondered, at first
Whether this was like reading
Someone else’s letter
Which he considered he would not do
No, that would be a private intrusion
But a folder he thought of as something
For the whole world to see
Even so, he did not feel comfortable
Yet he still began to read:

Neo non-intellect

It is not

That I do not want them to have a voice...

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Disturbed, Deluded

What happened at Weatherspoon’s then
He could hear his old friends say
But what would they say now
To see him in the sociology block
Of the university

Off limits Joe lad
Way off limits
They would for sure
Echo his mother’s warning
At this thought, he panicked

If he disturbed her would he lose her
If she thought he was prying on her
Would she cast him off
If he did not measure up would she
Discard him for a more educated type

Without any further delusions...

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Learning Places

The universities had become apolitical
A mirror of the apolitical society
Into which they were being moulded

To meet the master plan
They had needed to build very quickly
The focus then, on concrete, on facility

Not on theory or faculty
The new teacher’s contracts took
The lecturers pay below the minimum wage

That is if they were at all to engage
In the recommended, expected...

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Tied Ties

O Joe, what are you doing
Joe could imagine his mother’s voice
This girl is way outside your territory
You are well and truly hooked
Way over, way above your limitations

But Joe could still smell the musk of love
Enraptured, besotted
He was outside of that place
We call common sense
He was on the run

Caught full on
He could still see her eyes...

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