England Underground
Like any other day,
the sun rose not caring
that the earth would steal
its light, holding onto it like
like a frenzied mother
smothering her child.
Not caring that the streets
shimmered at its touch
but coaxing discarded,
tanned flesh to spoil.
he ennui
by feeding the future soil.
Unmoved by mannequins,
. Indifferent
to surrendered galleries
that decay, aided by
unchecked ultraviolet.
The sum of human
endeavour in dust
as the last man, tears
was our history’.
Picture Credit: © Steve Duncan / Barcroft Media
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