songs from a former east _0023_D. Zgia


karl-marx square
does it come with a whiff of maths or meths?
nota bene
we’re talking a short youth
on a far too small bi:cycle
skulking his body at a bus stop
slurring his voice an octave deeper
than the mid-gone drinking chums of his old man

a township out in the former gdr
does that smell of chemicals
or is it just the right thing to have:
u man lee?
we’ll never know
[almost like a tepid breeze from the off]
we’re out in the sticks
housing’s a carious remembrance of storeys
or windy gaps between d-wellings
roof-stumps over life-long tooth ache

investigating for the guyish noise
he jumps on his 2-wheeler
randoms the target

sandwiched between two articulated trucks
the camera takes the picture:

a titanic leisure centre
walls peeling
3 black stump doors
never mind the red alarm light
the growling fake horror buoy on his bike
a far too big hardship
for a left less town like this
a cultural flagship burped up
floating on cobbles & kerbs


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