Posted: April 22, 2014 in Chat
Tags: , , ,



The huge slab feet of Waterloo Bridge, and the Shard;

how office blocks shoulder together, and shine

in a river wind that burnishes blood, red.

In Manchester the banjo man sieves

daylight out into his black canyon of a box –

the city dips night-up to strange perspectives.

And Edinburgh’s Protestant tenements;

old preachers in black proclaim, no microphone:

live artefacts amongst the Festival tents.


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