Inevitable

Impatient wavelength of a broken computer login;

She walked across the thin ice ridge vis-a-vis an obscured continent just south of the 5G link-up.

 

Persistent metallic rain eased along the Humber as X lingered upon an empty bus shelter;

Meanwhile…

Illuminated chip cartons sailed in the gutters of Europarc way among the  latest cohort of false economists.

It couldn’t locate the blackbirds of submerged checked-out time;

[Housed within] a borough of

pre-judged conscious adjournment

below the tree

of lime.

 

The half-dream could have meant something

5G nosebleeds flowed along Europarc Way…

Although I find it difficult to summon the enthusiasm to visit the europarc after work, I still continue to return.

What’s the reasoning behind my repeat visits? Could it be the irony of a business park called europarc sitting on the edge of a northern town that voted 70 percent to leave the EU?