NICE HUNTER:

Watching formation dancers rehearse in a cut-through
under the belly of brutalist architecture, they jiggle,
jerk & hieroglyph. Down there through the thick plate
glass the street is hungry for action, but not the kind
I used to hunt. The action on the Southbank at night is
refined, tasteful, dirt extracted, without danger, the
thrill is gone. I walk to the rhythm of rich aromas,
the international food market, vibrant with bulb festoons,
echoes of the exotic, t-shirts proclaiming radical action,
emblems of change & counter culture purchased on highstreets,
pressed & sweetly fresh, no stain or crease, everything
safe, everything in it’s place.

(K)