Metrolyptic

Warp, weft and cryptic.

These knotted streets,

Painted, Scripted...

Look up:

This crumpled mountain

Embraced by ocean,

Awash with the splashed emotion

Of those thrusting themselves

Into this attrition,

Battling the elements and competition.

Look up:

This imposing fortress.

Stacked bombastic monument of grandeur,

Daily announcing itself with noisy candour.

Whilst a washing line of paper flowers

Between these two towers,

Is the brightest burning,

Attention turning,

Affection yearning,

Spectacular explosion

Of distended nerves,

Financial erosion.

Look up:

There is nothing that can not be said

Nothing that must not be seen.

If you have the will

And the not inconsiderable means:

Be enchanted, enraptured

Teased, tickled and captured.

Get lost, and then found.

And when you think you have mastered your path

On this hallowed ground...

Look up.