Clarity is hard to come by from a London point of view. If you’re from here, you are here, very hard to get perspective from that deep buried position. But anyway, this city is my home, as it is for a lot of others. It’s not a lifestyle we choose […]
London
30 posts
What do you call this future? The one at the end of the rat run you’ve built out of today and into tomorrow? The one we can see as a pin-prick at the end of the tunnel, a pin-prick of grey light and confinement. Why do you want us to […]
She was turning into Forrest Gump, it was worrying. Not least because Tom Hanks freaked her out, she strongly suspected he was secretly a psychopath. He had that look about him, for all the saccharine emoting he’d probably still kill a man for cutting in front of him in a […]
An anonymous observer saw a world of concrete clouds floating freely through the city paths all narrowed down Between the weight of presence and the lightness of the gone a world revolved around them all no more real than a song. Enjoy it? Support a struggling artist, buy my book!
A clouded breath floats drifting from urban peaks flooding streets made valleys Enjoy it? Support a struggling artist, buy my book!
Well now she’s gone perhaps to die The bastard Me never paused to ask why I walked away with all the rest imagining my hidden best. But fuck the writer and fuck the words a flimsy shield of flimsy verse Because when I write I make myself a better man […]
Stare long enough and you’ll get square eyes or tarmac, brick and concrete ones as the outside bleeds in and makes a city of your insides. All natural, all artificial – the way it’s meant to be. With buses for blood congested by the mass of walkers and seldom circulating […]
So this country is an island this city a thousand more this street another dozen maybe fewer, maybe more A thousand scowling natives a thousand untapped mines a thousand golden towers a thousand untold crimes And I’m Vasco da Gama, sometimes Cortés on the shore struggling to stake new claims […]
A wave of wings washing the city beauty above for below only pity The towers we raise in pale imitation a sorry attempt at a human migration But the higher we rise the longer the shadows the greyer the streets the deeper the shallows And when we reach those heavenly heights […]
And I don’t mean the shit faux-Punk band whose leading turn made a tit of himself on Nevermind The Buzzcocks. Although ‘about as Punk as Enya’ remains one of the best put downs I’ve heard. Just something I came across on Twitter – made by @thisismikehall