This pushchair, lying on its side
in the empty 7am street, wheels
broken, fabric ripped, is not a symbol.
This TV aerial, detached from the chimney,
bracket eaten through by rust,
is not a symbol. It scrapes
against the roof tiles in the wind.
This car, SORNed for months,
one side panel a different colour,
is not a symbol. Nor is the one on blocks,
wheels gone and the windscreen shattered.
This ruined front yard is not a symbol.
This unpainted door is not a symbol.
This pile of mail is not a symbol.
It has rained incessantly, meaningfully,
for two nights. The estate is indifferent.
Neil Fulwood was born in Nottingham, where he still lives and works. His debut collection, ‘No Avoiding It’, is published by Shoestring Press.