Out on a plastic bridge
Some Russian sculptor
may have carved those faces
In the streets of spring
those faces fell
for their iron solidity
Streets could ware shoes
Run and walk, talked and sung
were the ruins of roads
Out we were, hell anywhere
anyway out but a bit of peace
a piece of us
Feelings flattened
horizontal destiny
for a social future?
Socials and digitals
futures and purses
destiny and gratuity
three qualities
one could eat
out of a box of sweets
Streets were eaten, and flatly
the walk lasted
Until my friend and I
at a gasp and a smile
stopped and took a corner
to rest our minds
back in London, on a Marathon day.
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