Lawrence Wilson





it feels rather strange to say that I
no longer have a car. Farewell to Olaf
ancient Polo, seventeen and not
in best of health. To fix the oil leak
repair speedometer, align the wheels
would cost a great deal more than he was worth

and yet—it hurts, somehow, to say goodbye
to such a faithful friend. So battered, slow
up hills, and petrol-greedy, running hot
in summer, cold in winter… How to speak
of countless trips to work and back? I feel
ashamed, a bit—I sold him cheap. It hurts

to sign the papers, walk away. I stroke
the wing mirror, leave him with the tattooed bloke.



Lawrence Wilson grew up near Chicago, Illinois, and has degrees in drama, education and interdisciplinary art. He emigrated to the UK in 2005. He sings and acts professionally and has exhibited his pottery, sculpture, installations, prints, photography and artist’s books in the UK and the USA and online. His fiction, poetry, essays and reviews have appeared in Albedo One, Agenda, Three Drops in the Cauldron, Paper Swans Press (Best of British, The Poetry of Roses, The Pocket Poetry Book of Marriage, The Pocket Poetry Book of Cricket and The Darker Side of Love), Poet’s Cove, Art and Academe, The Prairie Light Review, The Art of Monhegan Island, on, and in other journals and collections.   His first collection, The April Poems,was published in 2016, and Another April in 2017.

Comments are closed.