The bull necked king ...

I'm taking ancient tins of paint to the tip - 

There are also three bikes, feathery with cobwebs, sinister rusty chisels, shards of mildewed wood - 

Antony's pulled down the ruinous hut in the garden - 

Sneak the wood into the tip he said -  

Sneak in when the foreman's gone - 

I saw him, the bull necked king of the tip, this sultry afternoon - 

He was basking on his white plastic throne outside the portakabin - 

He wore tattooes and a blue base ball cap - 

His tee shirt barely contained his barrel chest - 

Put in the bulk skip he rasped to a timid matron in her Micra - 

It belongs in the bulk skip ! - 

Smiling, he vaped steamy clouds -

He looked across his kingdom - 

He vaped once more - 

A phone mast cast its shadow - 

The sun burned in the Ballardian sky - 

14.00

Friday August 3 2018

Wareham

Dorset