|
|
escape
why is everyone talking about being existential
when no one has a minute to sit on a park bench,
look at a leaf, let alone wait for it to curl?
surrealism is now talked reality, people say life
is suddenly bursting with amazing imagery
and incongruity, dreams become the answer
and of course this is highly likely if you are
a barista in a coffee shop off Carnaby Street
when an E-type slips by cutting the air with
exquisite style while a homeless eastern man sings
a traffic cone on the corner 'maybe it's because
I'm a Londoner', then the doorman at the Cafe Royal
tells me he is actually a hologram and his real self
is in the bar completing a killer script
about the re-appearance of medieval London
... time to stitch a tabard
Liz Callingham