Pier 76

 

laughing gulls sky rip
dive for chips
old paint flakes and warm napes
pie coats like silver boats float
bobbing against the piers rusted pins
pristine prawns in polystyrene pots
kids take potshots for big bears
clad in neon fur and bow ties
no furry Fred Astaires
more staring eyes
and felted grins (for their sins)
misglued and thus
regretfully
misconstrued.

 

Fay Proctor
Image Mark Fisher

 

Brief biography

Born and raised in a gateau (pretty much….my Mum loved cake) in the early ’70s,
my first love was drawing. After school I did an Art Foundation course but then
changed direction in my early twenties to work in social care resulting in a degree in
Human Communication at Manchester Uni (1993-96). I tickled the city’s seedy
underbelly and fell in love with it which is why I’m still a Manchester resident 25
years later. An endless fascination with the human spirit led me to qualify as a
therapist in 2006 working mainly in bereavement counselling. Since 2010 I have
been mostly working my arse off as a Mum, which is one of the many reasons why I
need to write poems – I’m inspired by love, loss, music, dark humour and daft little
everyday occurrences.
Contact email: fproctor@outlook.com

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