Friday, 11 June 2010
Vancouver (written 11-07-06)
There is finally something to fight for.
Never used to be that way.
Everything used to be rusted, decayed, and rotting from
Splashing in muddy London puddles and gutters.
That’s not the way things are now.
They are clean and sterile and
Even the crackheads exhibit a warped decorum.
God bless the dust in their veins,
Cos they stay sweet and succulent,
Mashing their marshmallow gums together
As death wanders past.
But I digress.
I am back and surrounded by the fresh woodland,
The crystalline mountain peaks,
The nickel-plated ocean
That gallops between rocky islets.
And thrusting out from its soft scales -
A city of glass.