Recipe For Making A Public Space (Poetry)

Take one quiet scrap of natural green
and force a chainsaw inbetween
tall trees and bushes — chop and slice
cold leaves and branches — skin and dice
switch on the chipper — choke the sky
with woodflake dressing drizzled high.

Locate its centre — stab its heart
and prise its woven core apart
cut out its deep and hidden soul
scrape free the flesh — discard it whole
and sever sinews — gut and bone
then pour in filling of man’s own.

Remove all blemishes and weeds —
pluck out its feathers, stones and seeds
and beat the mix ’til smooth and bland —
whip it well — please understand
The Wild no longer has a place —
the common palate’s grown a taste


for pretty paths and Nature tamed —
cosmetic parks and woods contained
a fresh air diet safe and sound
that guarantees no flavour found
since peeled from winter’s shadows long
the bramble, nettle are all gone.