Motorway Merz-Ness Poem by Graham Eccles

I used to live on the roadside and make random art from rubbish i found.

Here is an ode to this peculiar passtime of mine, and a small nod to Mr Schwitters too.



Rainlit street, lights go by

Metal beasts on rubber hooves fly

Smokey breath from iron throat

Sailing ships on tarmac moat

Nothing but passers, not one paused

Choking of lifeblood they have caused

Blackened leaves and dusty fruit

Twisted, dry and barren root

Soil broken, cracked and bare

is all behind them abandoned there



I but a walker slowly tread

along wasteland long since left for dead

Churned and piled years ago

Forgotten by you, not I though

This is my homeland, byways edge

protect it forever is my pledge

Steeped in sheltered sloping hills

Breathe in smog-like through my gills

Discarded bits of worldly stuff

I make the smooth from your rough



Useful sometimes, always art

Built unfinished from the start

Nailed and bolted, stuck and glued

Things uncut and things unhewed

Mangled bits of mans detritus

Thrown in hedges just to spite us

Us of the highways, us of the road

Make beauty from the rubbish load

Here stand before you, monument!

Reminder of where I was, and went.