Wearing dangerous tweed ...

I'm wearing dangerous tweed -

I found the coat amongst gangsters' crombies in Clobber -

There were flying jackets last worn by the pilots of Flying Fortresses -

Uniforms worn by Artic Convoy captains -

Lounge lizards' finery -

But the tweed called my name -

It settled upon my shoulders like a warm memory -

Wearing it, I felt like a louche poet -

I searched inside the deep pockets for scraps of verse -

I turned up the collar against the rain -

I looked at the paintings in the sumptuous house -

I saw the sky reach down and touch the sea -



Friday 31 January 2020


Clobber, Boscombe
Russell-Cotes Art Gallery & Museum, Bournemouth