Poetry Lostock is poetry sailing down a river one childhood.
Poetry Lostock is writing poems on the back of imaginary upturned boats.
Poetry Lostock is invisible verse made transparent.
Birds above the Lostock see birds inside the Lostock.
Birds above the Lostock see birds inside the Lostock.
Do you remember that summer? me you and the boy with the mad hair on a dingy...we nearly drowned on the Lostock. The mud and our love saved us.
We are changing the face of British river banks by running words through Japanese weeds. Enter our competition...we are swallowing the dull, low rise of 'so what'
Never forget that we are at the confluence of Slack Brook and Whave's Brook at the entrance to Miller Wood. Slack Brook drains an area near Brindle (where do and what poems drain poetry?)
We flow south west, past Faringdon in life boats of cloud, then through the western suburbs of the town of Leyland, collecting Mill Brook and Hollin's Brook.
We are collecting a great mist of misunderstood water that bubbles over stones hidden in there, next to a vole's home, next to the question of poetry.
Poetry Lostock reads live from bridges that call out 'Leyland, Leyland, Leyland'
