a boy
screeching
from the
railway line

like a real
man’s whistle
wolfing
signalling

there where
the holed
strips were
found in

between the
ties having
fallen from
passed stock

imagine a flat
cap-gun’s
ammunition-
strip though

bigger and
rusted metal
its powder-dots
as holes

and you
would fold
place between
your lips and

poke in
the tongue
blow
screaming

but that
was its sound
not the
growing sores

become
angular cheilitis
trying to be
like guys

who could
use their mouths
talking big
whistling too

*

Reading a poem yesterday where the writer reminisces about having wanted to be able to whistle using his fingers [so the real deal] I recalled my inability to do so, but how blowing through a folded strip of metal with holes allowed me to perfectly make the piercing sound of a proper one. This is described in the poem, and I wouldn’t normally illustrate further – literally – but I was intrigued to find that what I produced as a kid is a well-known, if different, homemade construction, an image of this tin-can lid idea heading the poem here. I was further intrigued to discover this is a rudimentary version of an established and professional sheep-dog whistle:

And just in case readers have no idea what I mean in comparing my metal strip to a cap-gun’s ammunition strip, I am going to provide an image for this too:

We continue to grow and learn, but I still can’t whistle with my fingers…