Earlier…

I couldn’t swim in the front page waters of the Daily Expression.

Later…

16.48

A cleaner wipes the sills as a flurry of admin workers filed into The Innovation Centre car park.

7

Eriks

Hiscores

Europarc fades out as Brexit sinks into the shores of tar.

She sips upon harsh tobacco.

A black seagull half-arsedly cackles above.

A hoover descends another staircase.

The primacy of profit reverses.

The man in black exits gently holding a white cardboard box.

A crumpled tenner.

Statutory rights buried.

 

I ran over the A180 bridge whilst scanning the ground under my feet.

A red bike reflector channeled flat earth policies.

A figure in the distance shambled past the chalk mountain, gesturing with jerking movements.

He spits “fuck off” to himself as I pass.

A pre-shift anxiety response? School days fade.

Youth. 18 – 24?

I recall my own early 20’s factory fury.

Thick white headphones. Yellow basketball shirt. Joggers. Visor.

Ewals Cargo Care in reverse.

There was no Bluetooth audio device connected allegedly.

Flashing amber beacons.

I continued onto the Coates of Greatness.

Turned around stared at the ground.

I picked up a discarded ‘New England’ application form and stuffed it in my pocket.

Back over the bridge to Europarc.

An admin worker. Brown hair. Early 30’s walked alongside the grey bloc.

I see the angry youth dragging a boulder of capital out of an Innovation Way hedgerow.

Across the boulevard, a scruffy-haired guy crouched over his BMX rolling up an Article 24 escape route.

A lost seagull moves into ploughed field mist.

I still can’t find answer along Genesis Way.

 

 

Europarc Project – capital development strategies. Contemporary Art at Vaconsoft Gallery, Europarc if there were such a place as Vaconsoft Gallery on Europarc.

We walked thru the foret and across the greenest banks of concrete, I think there was a crap sculpture burning and some flames on that day of remixed blankkness – although they couldn’t be sure.

I ran across the field.

My throat was discoloured (dislocated).

Alls I could remember was Blockbusters and the sun reflecting upon the player of records. The planted tree. The OHP in the hedgerow and something about a dusty medical room.

 

It drove back and forth into a place that was speed multitude.

The biggest brother seemed jaded in the far sided room. I couldn’t be sure if I became forensicced

 

Do it y’self bedder at the home improvement center

Paint splattered cerebrale radio interference