A Bouquet of Steel: Poem for the National Centre For Sheffield Music.

bouquet of Steel

A Bouquet of Steel

Back in the day
Industrial grey
and a greasy industry wheel
The backdrop to a beat
In a pub-room on West Street
Where I first smelled a Bouquet of Steel.

From amps begged and borrowed
Thumped the sounds of tomorrow
Made in Sheffield
Hand-forged, and real
Through fanzines, fly-posting
Seeds were spread,
Weeds were boasting, then
Blossomed into
A Bouquet of Steel

I stared whilst you danced
We were newly romanced
Secrets yet to reveal
Our glances were long
But money was short
So I gave you a Bouquet of Steel

Day-dreaming in lessons
Of doing Peel Sessions
and EMI offering a deal
Some did it theirselves
Own labels, and shelves
Full of records
Like A Bouquet of Steel

The Cabs and the Comsats
The Stunt Kites, and all that
An alien heat, you could feel
ClockDVA, 2.3
Disease, Pulp and Artery
A small part of the Bouquet of Steel

Now the old flats have gone
And the city’s moved on
But the sounds are still hot
strong, annealed
They will never stop playing
There will be no decaying
Just a fresh, growing
Bouquet of Steel..

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