Tuesday, 8 April 2014


Remains of food and drink
Lay over the station
And underneath the bridge
Next to the beef-eaters.

Half ate sandwiches
And flat diet coke bottles
Migrating underneath
Flocks of seagulls,

Underneath deserted factories
Grey in the mist
Pinned against the wall
Like half rusted medals,

Stirring up memories
Killing themselves
Over and over

In the past.

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