I knew a bloke who was a bricklayer,
but rumour has it he was also a librarian.
When he built a wall he stood the bricks
on edge. Put bookmarks between the joints
and the bricks were given words on their spines.
He once built a house on top of a hill.
When the wind came the house fell
back as the bricks were laid upright.
The owners propped it back up with books
left behind by the bricklayer. The house was pulled
forward by steel cables via a crane,
then they were pegged down like tent lines.
The bricklayer lost his trade when the library
asked for a wall to be built between two rooms.
When he finished they checked his work
and found he had stacked books
from floor to ceiling. He said he ran out
of bricks so used them instead.
He retired early, ran a bookshop in the local
market. Stall holders would see him
with his spirit level during the day levelling
out his stock. Sometimes he was seen mixing
mortar behind his till, slapping it between
books he wanted to sell two-for-one.
Gareth Culshaw lives in Wales. He has two poetry collections by FutureCycle, The Miner & A Bard’s View. He is a current student at Manchester Met. He has been published in various places across the UK & USA. You can find him at Twitter @culshawpoetry1 or Gcwculshaw.moonfruit.com. His biggest critic is the house dog, Lana.