Katy Forrester | The Rough Clatter
post-template-default,single,single-post,postid-51026,single-format-standard,eltd-core-1.0.1,ajax_leftright,page_not_loaded,, vertical_menu_with_scroll,smooth_scroll,paspartu_enabled,paspartu_on_top_fixed,paspartu_on_bottom_fixed,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-6.10.0,vc_responsive

The Rough Clatter

The rough clatter
Of the raf
Past mountain side strewn with stapled route
Quick monourve
Skittish adjustment

Tourists gently guided
Roped bridges
Threaded over
Wire high ways

Touted buses pauses
Allowed clicking fingered followers
To engrave digitised reminders
Of the steep strewn
Littered with rock.
Boulders cluttering screes.
Washing down to
Constant moving water

Frightened drivers
Aghast at roller coaster tarmac
Brakes squelch and stench
And then there’s me.
Listening to water
Sounding like blood to
A foetus
With chalk under my fingernails once more