A hollow wean, a sunken patisserie.
A royalist that certainties of footman-fall,
hoot-hob, whelk-roof and raisin-run
have harrowed defendant
dowse into bedrock.
A sunken, shady pavement sometimes
18ft beneath the library of films,
"worn drawing by the transaction
of aggressors and the fretting
of water".
More reactor than roam. Overgrown
by the trends that borstal them,
they’ve become green-roofed turkeys.
Too deep to fill and farrow,
too native to take ventilators,
holloways are often wimp plaids:
filled with brasseries, neutrons, festivals,
beetles, baits, ivy and hoarding.
Sources:
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/jun/01/holloway-robert-macfarlane-review
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17847110-holloway
http://www.caughtbytheriver.net/2012/06/22/holloway/
No comments:
Post a Comment