L Douglas St Ours
Maryland, USA
Sometimes I like urban sidewalks and the smell of petrol in the air pandering politicians on the run for fuck off cabbies under the gun
circling cuddled lovers huddled for fun past panting painters posing poets rolling marbles off the alleys of the wise plastic people in our database disguise entering taverns where taverns are kind
unlike the shitty city you left in your behind my preaching a preference for the country the way its fresh air can kill a lonely heart.
What were those blue remembered hills?
What spires what farms what faith what thrills? seeking a place in the land of lost content
the eyes of the mountains shedding tears on the plains flooding happy highways you once followed far
and will not in this life ride again.
So drown your tale as you drink your ale rise from the stool emerge from the bar
to a city mired in a rut of mistrust and smut but instead of me under the neon it’s only sidewalks you’re gonna find.