Wood Green is Alive
If I know nothing else
I know this
As the people swarm under Saurday twilight
Queasy street lamps leak anaemic orange
buses line up and toddlers run
between their mothers legs
amidst the shopping bags
Wood Green is hungry
Driven
Pulsing
Never pretty
Its hunger charges me through the seat
Energy running
Rushing
Streets are awake now
Wood Green is Alive
Alive to the couples, the rubbish in the gutter,
To the sirens, the shopping shrines and the cinema
Waiting for the moon to rise
When the Vacuous Neon Glares
In tourist ridden squares
There is a Wood Green shaped hole in the heart
In the stomach
In the memory
Brown Eagles perch
No pigeons
Wood Green is free
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment