View from the bridge

Black holes, fast cars
I walk off the edge of the platform
Chasing neon lights, the London
Eye swirling as it plays witness,
All-knowing, ever-present
There are potholes in my mind
I am filling them with gravel from
Streets I’ve forgotten the names of
Subway station debris, this
lit-up nighttime metropolis
Bursting at its seams.

Porto, 13/11/16

7pm.

Oportoflowers.
Flowers in Porto and
Pink-lit lanterns strewn above
City square stone, painted
Faces on outcrop walls
Fire in the sky and fire from
Inside, feet dangling ledges
Boats moored to hard edges
The view from the barricades
As you pulled me away
From the dancing bridge lights
From the streaming, flowing gold
From this city of angels and fear but
I’ve forgotten the lyrics to that song
And the lights will blow a fuse
In my head; they are burning
Through my vision, cars clamouring
in the late evening rush, headlights
Flaring like angry bulls as we weave
Back towards our starting point
Wandering, wandering
Finding this city in ourselves
Folding over and over again
Running between traffic lights
Spinning between tramlines
Trekking up steep alleys for –
What?
What are we looking for?
What is there here to find?