This poem was first published in Thimblerig.
Reading Poetry in a Car Outside the Trafford Centre
I’ve tried to explain the strangeness of
working without the sun, bundled
with countless others down consumer cataracts,
all seeking their own seeking:
Netbook; IPod; Blackberry;
a token; a statement; a trophy.
No east or west, no horizon;
small wonder I read to the last second.
Words rise as I cross the carpark;
the tread of feet
on pink marble is a heartbeat,
the weaving in and out
a dance we all know
and this shopping mania a gathering.