The City
Suits towering over Oxford
shoes spurting out the station’s
mouth and glass lashing from
the shellac sky and ears seizing
on flashing phones and
screens gasping in silken
trenches and legs racing green
men at crossings and collars
chasing whitening dry cleans and
feet scrambling for high-rise
oases and hands revering
speculative markets and eyes
stalking snaking assets and
not a suit spared by the unreal
city to see it say it sordid
