a poem by Douglas Wadsworth
We’re in a moving air castle.
Nothing happens, in the damp city,
smells damp, prays it.
The fresher the day the more hopeless, we’re given hope.
Maybe someday, they’ll believe it
And a swig of happiness thinks about you too.
We’re happiest in the darkness, in the rain, in the damp now it reflects the body
Gives us reasons to think about everything, all the time.
In youth we’d love to
So in life we’ll kill it
with bare hands.
The eye in this city reeks danger, dragon scale
Look at it, the disgusting lines.
Cars tilt past one burnt shop,
Small houses will litter your life
Visit on. Cry to you.
You're uncomfortable, so get out, get comfortable again.
You spent the time you had, you had it all sprawled now, this city
The wet streets it gives you.
Try them, or don't try at all.
You live in your head, the greyer the city