Tuesday, April 04, 2017

Godzilla In Liverpool

The Liver Building where
My grandfather,
Worked in insurance, burns,
The Liver Birds, melted to metal droplets
Vapourised to rain, fly finally away.
The meteor debris of sundering fire
Falls upon Canning, and on Salthouse Dock
And up Lord Street and Church Street,
See he strides.
And Bluecoat Children flee, as fearful hordes
Along no-longer Bold Street, inbetween
Cathedrals raised to subtly different takes
Upon a far more human featured God.

He kills a smaller number than the War,
Burns fewer Churches,
But he moves as one,
Colossal, entity,
In whose dark wake,
Three graces fall in ruin,
Under whose shadow,
The city's people,
Ants, more than beatles,
Scurry, lost, alone.

1 comment:

MOSES said...