The sun broke away from the clouds at lunchtime
And shining through the Market hall windows
The light touched the soil bordering the walls
(outside the men's toilets)
And the green fingers of the artist
Guerilla gardening
A holy act
Make the hard concrete soft and wet
Tender placement
Building a garden
Rich bedding to put the living to rest
Away from the bustling stalls
Nobody knowing how to interpret
Are they mad?
- or maybe outrageous
There is no rage here.
Singing the songs of pullover patterns
Shirts sewn with care and precision
Needles the "Ham Packs" emblem
Threads the armpit hair
Embroiders belly button and nipples
The 'regular' stalls advertising British martial arts and DVDs, shifting product for the goth, witch and worker. Wigs, confectionary and hams - there is a performance here.
Neglected stalls sit in wait for another shopper to come. For the Queen's face to grace their palm, in exchange for tack and bric-a-brac.
The markets rhythms and patterns creates a code
We have interrupted the code
Some enjoy this
Others don't
Made in
Fresh from
Shipped from overseas
Flight and travel
Magnet
Central
Core
Distribute
Carve
Separate
Package
Weighed
Paid for
Charged
Short changed
Lied
Thieved
Eaten
Chewed
Spat
Tread
Walk
Sight
Window
Stall
Stop
Scan
Bright
Shiny
Magpie
Lucky
Need
Want
Can't
Afford
Bulk
Buy
Bought
Sought
Debt
Refund
Replaced
Displaced
The slaughtered pig
In pieces
Will be put together again -
No comments:
Post a Comment