Here -
Where...bitter fingers rub endlessly into painted brick..
Where...teenage anger lasts long into retirement..
Where...happiness is solitary, forgotten and distant..
Where...closed shops remain open..
Where...failure becomes a habit..
Where...values are challenged and always disputed..
Where...machine winnings replace job prospects..
Where...harmony is seen between broken shop trolley, mid-summer puffa jacket and cannabis vape..
Where...Sunday morning dead mans clutter waits for eager hands..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
