An Entropic Situation

I used to play in this stream when I was little
We used to make a dam
Every weekend we made it and
The next weekend it was gone
And we had to re-make it
The river was diverted for the bypass
Now it is thin and deep
It has tried to find its own path
Through the restrictions of concrete sides and pipes

A broken fence at the side of a bridge mudslides to a field
Playground equipment has been weighed in

I am walking through nowhere
I am in the middle of nothing
There are pruned paths that lead nowhere

A wartime airfield was claimed by nature
It is claimed by a property developer
No one lives in the new houses
There is a creeping tension between nature and brick and tarmac

I walk though Stanley Green industrial estate
There are storage warehouses, industrial units
Long sides of corrugated powder coated steel
With PVC windows and front doors from suburban houses
And a public path which takes you round the back
You see compressed cardboard and off-cuts of vinyl

A vast area of land has been paved for airport parking
It is chewed up and empty
The business has moved on or gone under
The ghost of something is left
I get to it though a gap in the chain link fence
I thought it was a torn down warehouses

This area has the confinement of the city
And the expanse of the countryside
It has neither untouched purity
Or ugly dense weight
There is a relationship between people and nature
This a site with social potential
This is an entropic situation

2 responses to “An Entropic Situation

  1. Fine work Denniss, a good sense of place, or lack of place. Quite utilitarian use of of language: plain, flat and unpunctuated- like your subject, nice to have that meeting of theme and form. Some sense of the cold, slightly numb observer in it too. Why is he there at all? If you can find it, have a look at John Burnside’s poem ‘Scalpel’, which touches on something similar. See you soon, x

  2. …also I should have said, you will find that poem in a George Shaw catalogue from a few years back I think- couldn’t help thinking of him when looking at the photographs- of course, you avoid the contextual speed bump that is those wretched humbrol paints!

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