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Experiencing a To B
I wrote some quick notes about the journey on foot from the train station to the art gallery with a view to making it into a poem later. I may do that, but here are the slightly tidied notes I made following posting just rough notes initially I step off the train They still have a piano at the train station It's being played Though the shops music covers the sound and leaves no trace Along with a photo booth calling out with offers to capture you And the street is wet like the painting I saw yesterday But the rain has stopped No one is washed away But some are drowned out or drawn in shadows There are people standing with suitcases Contrasting with stacks of coloured bins Street art on buildings is overlooked Art strides by in biker boots personified and unmistakable A gathering of girls all fake blond and lashes trying to stand out but as standardised as a cluster of daisies The very tall man stands still, I have to crane to see his face Then actual cranes, in the distance, look small Queen Victoria's statue, set with moss and pigeon embellishments Scaffolding on buildings with hidden virtues I walk past taking notes without questioning Snippets of conversations from several food stalls, piece together to form a strange recipe I walk past beautiful puddles containing plastic bags and broken mirrors reflecting the light and the shade of the city Grand buildings contain insignificance And plain shops claim magic and transformation within People juggle several coffees To brighten days in dimly lit office circus' The section near the gallery is empty and clear A street cleaner hovers, he could perfect his artistry here but trundles back to where he's in demand but never finished A cherry blossom tree heralds my destination Hints at lifting gloom And I leave behind the bustle of the city and place my notes in my pocket
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