Ben Jonson

The Thames at Mortlake

if only for ten minutes
 
after the mass feeding of schoolchildren
after the careful inanity of the staff
 
at low tide
this was the place
for calm, for order of a kind
 
the relief of walking there
 
and the smell was acceptable
perhaps even preferable
 
the objects to be
seen
found
 
principally (I have it still)
a short fat halfpound brass bolt and nut
virgin, unscrewed
 
other things less permanent
 
sodden grey bones
scratched glass, rubbed brick, rusted gatebutts
once a chaffinch eggshell
 
every conceivable other
 
but mainly dirty shingle
silt
prairies of malachite slime
 
though was the important thing
that I met no one else there?

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