Newport in my heart
My right atrium is St Woolos Cathedral.
Light filters through the east window
revealing a hollow body of stone
modest and magnificent.
The right ventricle is lined with mosaics
left by the Romans in Caerleon.
The blue water of the main bath
sloshes to the beat of the bass drum.
A punk band plays
beneath the creaking rafters
of the left atrium
almost drowning out
the drinkers of The Murenger
gathered in the left ventricle.
Look! There’s some fool trying to recite poetry
by the heaving doors of the mitral valve.
The pulmonary artery is the River Usk
straddled by the proudly metallic aorta
of the Transporter Bridge,
standing in tribute to the engineers
who had the audacity to build it.
Trees sprout through the outer walls
where Belle Vue Park lies.
Veins form paths across the lawns
looking out over the city and golden reed beds
of the Wetlands Centre beyond
where a lone lighthouse stands watch
over ocean waves pounding below.