Manchester, Greater Manchester, United Kingdom
Manchester, I am sick of your grand visions.
Your titanic casinos and bland hotels
invoke thoughts of Las Vegas,
and I’ve no idea what Vegas is really like.
Our lives intersect at hostels and bus shelters.
Sometimes we meet on a rainy street in Ancoats
or share a sandwich on Deansgate. But that is all.
I am nothing to you because I am poor.
I don’t like your frivolous moods.
You twist like a handkerchief in the wind.
Your heart is in London or New York.
You are all over the place, never where it matters.
Your posh boutiques remind me of Paris
and I’ve never been to Paris.
Nor will I take a tram like they do in Amsterdam.
I’m nothing to you because I am poor.
Manchester, I won’t say anymore.
I’m tired, the streets are cold.
My blanket is wet from last night’s…
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