It’s the holes that stop it falling down: Pontypridd Bridge

Scuffed river leaning against the back doors of shops tripping over stones. Churning up smell on its way to Cardiff uncertainty where a ghost abattoir spews gutblood into the job centre’s shadow.
Frothed.
Gas pipe arching over river, spiked ends into riverbank foundation. Bolted railing. Midges biting. Aeroplane scratching. Herringbone path mined by ants. Cut through mountains cast up. Tunnelling rock drill moan. Stone. A train in the distance chattering away from a town dragging banks towards wine bars, office attire and car park latte commuters with books and distant cards.
A pink fluffy slipper with a cat face set into concrete. A grove. Rubbish crawling pallet split bramble broken glass bottle crushed polystyrene Christmas decorations crashing blister packed ecstasy cans needles bottle rot memories
rust bunched stain.
Last sunlight gripping seagull, last sunlight tangles bridge, last sunlight filmy on chips and kebabs, last sunlight breathing clouds, last sunlight smelting windows settling hooked birds into nooks of trees, flock chatter wing flapper harvesting leaves. Gone.
Cigarette smoke unfolding close the air settling into an empty glass balanced on the river defences. Catching the first streetlight.

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About Graphite Bunny

I am a writer working in South Wales (UK). I love pizza, photography and moist clay. When it rains I catch drops in my open mouth. I create poetry, flash, absurdist snapshots and humorous fiction.
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6 Responses to It’s the holes that stop it falling down: Pontypridd Bridge

  1. Reblogged this on alaisfairlight and commented:
    Here is one of Graphite Bunny’s “Space where we live” exercises….totally cool!

  2. Fantastic. So vivid. I feel as if I’m beginning to know Cardiff intimately and I’ve never been there. I just read this piece of yours out loud to my husband. He thought it was great. It certainly passed the writing test of seamless forward momentum.

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