Weeds grow where they want to; not where they're told to grow...


Nick Power


...and now available is Nick Power's second collection

Holy Nowhere

£7.95 (inc p/p)


Gerard’s Bop

Gerard’s bop: came on like the
thunder. In a renovated
slaughterhouse. Purred for a while
until it filled. Spilled into the street.

Gerard’s bop: was a secret at first,
then the word spread. Became
contagious. Then there were
swarms. From the estate and the
corn exchange. Indian girls from the
towers. Marauding kids on bikes.
The boxing families.

Gerard’s bop, the shower. The fly in
the loaf. Pulled everybody in one
night. Music purring out of the
plywood. All those people. All those
lives. Perspiring each other’s secrets.
Animated. Even the didicoys came.

Gerard’s bop: was powered by the
telegraph poles. Wired in by a spark.
And some people fell in love, they
said, and somebody died. In amongst
the oil drums. And the lovers, they didn’t
speak of it again, and the dead kid,
well, he stayed dead.

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