Monday, 29 October 2018

A poem by Marion Ashton

Hot-Night Houston

Breathe in
and catch its essence
in the soupy air: oily sweat
from construction sites,
sweet-sour, deep-fried scents
from fast-food diners,
spluttered, high-octane emissions
from super-sized trucks.

Listen -
beneath the hum of planes,
the pulse of endless traffic
bumping over concrete joins,
wails of distant sirens,
rumbles of cooling systems,
and that rise-and-fall rattle of cicadas -
you will hear the city sigh.

Marion Ashton’s background 

From home in Woodhall Spa, Lincolnshire, she has spent much of the last fifteen years travelling back and forth to Houston, Texas. The contrast between very different lifestyles plays a big role in her writing as does travelling itself.

She has had poems published in a wide range of magazines, enjoyed several Arvon courses and gained an MA in Creative Writing from Royal Holloway in 2010, with Andrew Motion and Jo Shapcott as tutors.

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