regular twelve-hour shift walk with a clock
in Grimethorpe as security guard round N.U.M. remains, to find key, fit clock,
walk ripped floor tiles, dust, unused coal mounds,
collect evidence to record time, find
key, account for my existence, set
of other keys echoing their jangle, mined
empty spaces unlock from outset,
a wasteland of rooms without walls, ceilings, see a cold October sky stars abuzz,
a coke plant behind a steel fence, workings,
a head of grind industrial lights scuzz.
Nothing to do but waste time till time
to return, hand keys over till next time.
