Liverpool

Drizzly sky just beyond,

inside, the walled void.

The inanimate has no voice

and yet, with it there’s a bond.

Dishevelled bed, the dispersed clouds,

fogged glasses, twins of the mist,

some playing cards, the untouchable wind,

scattered tobacco, the downtown crowd.

Crumpled sheets, the maroon bricks,

recumbent clothes, the tramps in the street,

snooty dust, the forgettable heat,

useless bin, these empty chicks.

Had to choose,

left it like this,

these square meters

live on Liverpool.