Sorry about this being posted again, only formatting suddenly appeared that
wasn't supposed to be there. Grrr.
(Very minor correction required, so this version supersedes the previous)
This is the way, past the Gemini Lucky Food Store, Sorry No Credit, and the
windowless bulk of Leicester Gaol, a Disney facade of turrets, against which
you find Nelson Mandela Park, while if you looked back, past the nightclub
formerly Flaming Colossus, across the Welford Rd and Oxford St, and the
noon-soon nausea haze of fume, and the squat double block of fifteen floors
where I live, you'd see, in a bewilderment of signs, instructions, names,
the Leicester Royal, the Infirmary that is. We would see a sign.
Shop, prison, club, hospital, flats. The bound world rising from the maps.
And the little park, like an exercise yard, and square, where a dog barks at
the clouds.
David Bircumshaw
Leicester, England
11.25 am Wed Aug 29th
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