Corner

I once wrote a couple of poems (see below) when I lived in Warsaw about the beauty of the empty and depopulated city. Then, later on in my native Glasgow, I put together an artist book called the Empty City based upon the 'desert premise', that the desert contrary to what you may think spends most of its time in sub-zero temperatures. When applied to the city, this means that the city streets are mostly empty not full. So, I delight in seeing an empty city, unpeopled, undogged, and uncarred. It's a sublime moment to be sure, and here, I simply concentrate on a corner just outside my flat. 

IN BROAD DAYLIGHT

In the widest daylight 

in certain parts of the city 

the human element completely disappears 

there is only a vague sensation of man 

a few cracked tyre tracks in the earth 

the sound perhaps of an airplane overhead - 

This city is the solitary city 

the silent city where all the flurry 

of talk has dissolved into the air 

into the earth where the denizens 

are dispersed subterranean, into iron and steel, 

behind brick walls, insinuated into the integument of the city. 

The city, rid of its self, has become something else. 

It is still the city only not bigger not louder, but quieter, more alive. 

Gradually, the empty waste ground, 

the weeds growing through the window, 

the suddenly silent street, in broad daylight, 

smash the mind to pieces - 

ON THE CORNER OF KAWECZYNSKA & OTWOCKA

Sitting on the steps of the Basilica 

the rattle of trams 

the rustle of trees 

pigeons and people 

coming and going.