King's Place

Kings place.

Oh my god I’m back

You finally did it

How can I be so curmudgeonly as to deny the seduction at play?

Oh the pristine vintage cobbles

The plate glass fronted warehouse arches

Framing slim silhouete of new student

Who sips coffee

Totally amazing tote bags

University of the Arts

Tram lines flow encased at floor level

As archival patina

Of an industrious past

It’s all good

How can I fail to see that this is betterer

Double plus gooderer

I visit an exhibition of Soviet childrens books

Encased in glass

Remember the smell of mildew?

Its freezing here comrade.

I grasp and gasp

Hoping for the oxygen of something actual

The fleeting memory of a real experience

An actual event.

There is a hand printed lino cut cover

For A Russian book of Walt Whitman’s O Pioneer.

Is this it?

The moment that evaded the death grip

The strangulation by equivalence?

Asphixiation by reproductive thingness.

I think it is

And a part of me celebrates inside

Then I walk back onto the street

where victory parades are in full  flow

This of course entails

Perfectly arch  vintage window displays

Litter free cobbles

Perfectly assembled nutrious marginally overpriced fast food

And lots of trolleys pulled over cobbles

23 accidents on the escalators this year citizen

80 percent due to luggage

4 percent due to running

I break into a sprint

Laughing softly

Or perhaps I am gently sobbing

My chest heaves but at least

I am wearing appropriate foot wear (ten percent)