The multi-language splattered
Desolate north welcomes you
With a flirtatious glance
Across her shoulder
Her grim beauty set against clouds
Your rain-spattered Converse
Dance across puddles
On your way to the gallery
A date with Freud and Bacon
Calls on inspiration
Tattered papers spin in the wind
Cross ever widening roads
Where the pneumatic drill
Beats for the heart of the city
On the edge of its landscape
Battered by downpours
You listen to half of
Mobile phone calls on streets
Eavesdrop on conversations with strangers
And feel at home
thelibraryrooms 