6 March 2013
Dark. Light. Flash. Crackle. Hiss. Screech.
Momentary glances of landmarks remembered from TV.
Shy glances in cramped silent carriages,
Carrying the weight of suspicion everywhere they're beamed.
Beautiful loneliness caresses us in temporary shared solitude.
Sit. Wait. Stand. Walk.
Sit walk stand sit talk.
Trains and cigarettes, underground lifts and piss-covered corners hold secrets.
Leeds to London; London to Leeds in just one day.
Did not pass go. Did not collect £200. Did not buy Mayfair.
I didn't even get to see the fucking Queen.
All I got was this lousy T-shirt,
and a glimpse of the implausible dream.
12 Hours And 2 Cities • Opuss № I