from my poetry blog
The Rain Never Stops On Deansgate The rain never stops on Deansgate, it clears the pavement faster than the tribal skirmishes the corrugated shelters and scaffolded walkways snagging the flood-water flotsam, huddled in pockets of faithless devotions. The doorways are already taken, will be for the night, as we turn blind eyes behind fogged-over windows, comfortably dysmorphic in this residence of root. The Church of Scientology over the road has closed up for the day, but I feel Tom Cruise calling to me. Do they have 24-hour call out, I wonder? Working on Hollywood time. I don't think these city limits can hold us, want to hold us, they just lay barbed hooks beneath our skin reeling us in every time we glance back. ©AndrewJamesMurray
City Jackdaw 
Oh my word. You have a way with words! I can’t help thinking of Chicago and the homeless I would pass on my way to the commuter train.😟
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