Vetch Field Elegy

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Swansea City vs. Wrexham, FAW Premier Cup Final,
11th May 2005

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 On your deathbed
we stripped you –
ripped out red plastic seats
and advertisement boards
like thieves
stealing gold from fresh bodies.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 The Vetch clock,
not yet stopped
but definitely slowing,
tick-tocked our
final minutes away
as Roger Evans,
muffled by soot,
whispered down chimneys
into Sandfields living-rooms
for the last time.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Then, with makeshift spades
we dug shallow graves
across your boot-worn pitch –
taking turf home
to place on the mantle,
to plant in back-gardens,

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 to say we were there
when that man in black
sounded the final final-whistle
at our beloved tin-shed.
And as the smell of
warm pies and fried onions
drifted above the floodlights,
getting lost on its way to the bay,
we poured out into the streets
like black and white tears.



Substitution: The word ‘pies’ is a replacement for a similar sounding word that appeared in the original poem, but might be considered bad language by some. A vital 3 points to those who can guess what it is.

This poem was filmed for The Crunch multimedia poetry magazine. You can watch it on YouTube: https://youtu.be/kIHD6pCULnM

Editor Note: Also see Football Poets on Facebook for the video.

Poem first published in That Lone Ship (Parthian Books, 2018).

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/vetch-field-elegy/