this
chimney world insists itself upon us
a shouldering yob of beery certainty
occupies the estate
slum boots it through the town
praises the unity of stone
and all these pinnacles of light
the
incinerator
the
university
the
town hall
the
gasometre
the
chemical plant
the
railway
are miracles of his dreaming
i caught
you looking he shouts
for a clear sky where on summer days
kites swoop and dip
for all that is dead
shackled to the sill & envying smoke-birds
who who who on a ledge balancing
are trapezing artists in evening pink lights
but nobody is waiting.
