Friday 22 January 2021

Five Poems by Kieran Wyatt


Spen Dyke


witch wood by lytham hall by weatherspoon’s

I saw a unicorn

she – possibly she – seemed lonely

and lost

even listless

more emotive than a horse by far

and its smell

so acute

like rosewater, then manure



on the sixty-eight stagecoach bus

I see a scaly creature in the sky

coasting over st. anne’s

teasing those dunes with aquiline


by the hospital, another saint

testing the air by the white church

untested and fresh, the creature

settles above granny’s bay

as calm in the clouds as it would be

on the ground – more so



a grey-bearded stalwart pointer

german, wirehaired

watching the entrance to costa

with a steady, human eye

he’s waiting for a warlock

coming in from the east

a Tyneside man with


in his hands

the pointer sits, his concentration


and sandgrowners leave with their

differently spiced lattes,

unaware that the weight of our world

rests on the back of a dog


Froth Goblins

these unusual things by Central

North and South

slips of frothy seawater

slack ends of a spout

tiny and chill

get in tricky spots

between crannies

forget your nooks

when you’re riding infusion

froth goblins hang mid-air

jelly on a plate, jelly on a plate

mean no harm, so

when you spot em


they’re no spat



there’s a dog made of sand

opposite the Grand

it waits for Spen Dyke

to fill its boots

its muck un mud

from fairhaven to the tower

on the escalator

hounds hill

the sand-dog sits and spots punters

leaving panto

and smiling

Spen Dyke bubbles

another year passes unnoticed

Kieran Wyatt lives on the Fylde Coast. He is co-chair of GenSex (@GenSexResearch), an interdisciplinary research group, asking probing questions about gender and sexuality. His work has been published by Eunoia Review, The Art of Everyone, and Small Leaf Press. He graduated from Edge Hill University in 2018 with a degree in Creative Writing. 


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