Lost in London by Georgie Hart
‘The city is a storm of life that bubbles and roils/and I have been cast adrift.’ … More Lost in London by Georgie Hart
‘The city is a storm of life that bubbles and roils/and I have been cast adrift.’ … More Lost in London by Georgie Hart
‘I am the flutter of a butterfly against the white honeysuckle so sweet.’ … More A Hundred Tastes of Me by Jhilmil Breckenridge
‘Lissome youths in skinny black jeans loiter by stalls,
/ Selling things that no-one needs.’ … More Silly in Spitalfields by Amanda Fuller
‘In Green Park, a boy kicks at a pigeon that has no toes on one foot / ‘Fucking garbage,’ he says, aping the voice of his father.’ … More Visible by M.E. Rolle
‘Arriving at Leadenhall, while the flashes of fire rush flickering above my head, I think that London is a damn Peruvian piñata on the point of pulverising itself.’ … More Flight of Falling by Gunter Silva
‘He had said that city life could break you down if you weren’t up for it.
The crushing hordes of people,
all of them in a hurry,
all of them bracing against you.’ … More Opiated by M.E Rolle
‘The city lives in us
Selfish whorish lustful
Amazing beautiful new
And we spin stumble and move’ … More Broken in the City by Jhilmil Breckenridge
‘It was snowing in London, and I was eating my dinner in a coat.
You told me it was snowing in Paris too,
And I looked up at the flakes falling from the sky.
My fingers were red and shaking.’ … More These are the places I remember you by Marie Lefeuvre
‘You, who navigates a straight line,
by moonlight are trapped in my electric cloche.’ … More GUILT / TO A MOTH by Stephanie Kocsis
‘They had the freedom to walk
In the weak sun and take in the evening breeze
Nothing moved them so much as the cold winds
Bleaching the slag-gray bay some mornings’ … More A City by Reed Smith
‘I will escape from here. Twenty minutes left. Twenty minutes hold me from the abiding, nearly habitual rush. Not much…and at the same time an infernally long patch.’ … More The City by Anastasia Polkanova
‘through the first urban gloamings of the day, light shows
the lollipop lamps and crimson morning and the grey skin of night peeling back
and back and back to show the yawning city with its dreams and its dirt.’ … More South & Plunderer by Charlie Hawksfield