Here -
Where...recycled gloves spill glassed ale in corner seat of damp pop-up..
Where...grey cigarette stained trackies stand broken in cement bank shelter..
Where...midnight football is supported by passing runaways heading to early morning meal..
Where...cupped smoke and industrial strength poison cans work full-time to keep the cold out..
Where...sharp light slices into puddled indoor short-cut..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
