Thursday 24th May


This city is fuelled by cellphones & chocolate, I crawled down, called down
from the green fields slipped in unnoticed. Acrid perfumes coalesced,
concealed the undertow of sweat that smelled of copper nicotine.
And as if in prayer, heads bent beneath the ground, eyes stared through
hands that held for fingers prodding tiny screens, no time to stop
& look around or hear the music.
The moment in the moment gone, broadcasters everyone, tittle-tattle rivers
burst their banks & flood, we treacle walk neck deep in one’s & zeros.
Stepping off the morning train overwhelmed by shades of grey, I look up
at staines on the glass above our heads & whisper,
“How beautiful you look today” then play the rhythm game, the ticket
of the day fed through the slot & out again with dextrous fingers dancing.
Out onto the brutal stark we burst, the morning concourse scrubbed & prepped
where only hours before such ragged city drunks had fumbled one another
waiting for the last train home to children, wives & husbands. That’s when
I heard the sound of heels & raised my eyes to see you glide. Ophelia radiant
as the sun made rhythms who’s heels like wings of a metal birds made rhythms I could not resist. You were a bell a clear true call to prayer I followed through cacophony until you’d lifted me again up from beneath the earth & out into the light.

Moondog singing: ‘Each Day is Yesterday’s Tomorrow