A metropolis, hungering colours and symbols my plait, drifting in the spring breeze from the passing white cars with speed and cleanliness as their beauty. Cats stare motionless from windows, and a woman with a bob eyes me, curious. My shorts undone, I step up onto the platform, surrounded by red lanterns that dance on a string, taking the mic I begin to sing in a quiet, cute soprano. T.Vs in windows display me, as I sing about the unknown, the questions unanswered and the thoughts not yet thunk. I whisper into the echoey mic, this is for you, and me. Let's go, let's go to Tescos. In all its bizarreness my words, sung bring tears to the nations eyes. We don't need more of this, we need less, and better. I step away, the crackle-off ringing in the nations ears. Now? it's cherry blossom time.
No comments:
Post a Comment