Mark Haddon Poems

They stand in parks and graveyards and gardens.
Some of them are taller than department stores,
yet they do not draw attention to themselves.
...

The way it's parked, nose-down between the wet rocks
in the leaf-light of the gorge, water pouring
through the windscreen and the tyres blown;
...

They are seldom racing cyclists
And are largely innocent of the workings of the petrol engine
...