PARTY, PART 4

up,

i have another drink and go out

into the

awful confused Kings Cross night

LONDON - City Of Stuff

plugging the 

hole

in

the 

world

ends of sewer pipes stick up out the ripped street

i go on by – Invited

new entrances and doors and routes to underground

torn open in my absence

the street is flexible street like that

and the old

is buried in dust and hoardings

and orange workmen

and orange barriers

all

lit

bland by fluorescents

i bounce off people and artificial walls 

and black cabs turn into me 

and tourists clots and bleeping cross road drones . . .

tired 

disorientated

early first wave pissed

the world has gone and changed

since my memories happened round here

my sad memories

battered 

blue

by 

churned cement

and

paid 

men