Julie Hogg – Driftwood Detroit

Driftwood Detroit

A city is being sedated
Jesus Christ where are you now!
Listen, for God’s sake, to the almost incidental
silver-tongued debates, polished up by cheap liquored
words, marinated for zero hours in all the habitual permanence of a
hotel room, calling it a

town, calling it a town, for God’s sake,
not quite meeting byzantine, undisclosed criteria for
numerous reasons, making metallurgy a cyclical, self-depreciating
struggle in authentic better nature and Sunday best pride, keeping an
infant Hercules, juvenile. God I’ve tried, I’ve really tried to contort to hard
and brittle, tarred in

over-sized molten alloy footprints,
watching the core of our Constantine College’s
foundations quiver and crack, Jesus Christ, I’m an
inshore seagull flying over the tracks from a driftwood
Detroit and you call me a Fishwife! But this is my voice and this,
this is how I cry

Julie Hogg is a Poet from Teesside who is passionate about the area. She has work published in Alliterati, the Black Light Engine Room Literary Journal, Ink, Sweat and Tears and The Linnet’s Wings. Anthologized by Apple Tree Writers and Ek Zuban, she is featured in a chapbook, ‘Dark Matter 2,’ from the Black Light Engine Room Press.

Julie Hogg – Chance and Fine Things

Chance and Fine Things

Backyard cracked knuckles
with unattended weals,
devoid of moisture and
starved of cream, began.
Courtesans of men of rank,

living their identities out,
buckling their knees,
pulling back possibilities
in fluent solidarity and
fine, unrequited dreams.

There’s still hope in the
rubble of emulsion and
skirting boards, frames
and acrylic, synthetic or
real glass ceilings in this

sometime state-of-the-art
partly demolished block
of flats, where no-one tried
too hard to have a heart, it
came naturally like a spark

or a pigment reflecting light
off lintels, live wires and
cut copper cables. On the
rooftop, holding on tightly
to solitary experiences,

there’s a chance of settling
down completely at dusk in
a thrilling stillness tonight.
The quality of air above
the flyover is astounding.

 

 

Julie Hogg is a Poet who enjoys flipping words around each other so that they have a chance of looking, sounding and meaning their very best. She is interested in things which may have been missed, either accidentally or on purpose.

Further information  is available on twitter @hogg_julie