We only see the city incomplete.
Snatches of architecture, a table
In a favourite cafe. Trees in the
Mist. Some half-unseen, as if a
Crowded station passes by.
The great mass of knowledge, lent
By my few friends. Usury, small
Portion of the common entirety of
This City. I cycle my streets,
Drink at my pubs. And in a
Blink, a speck in the eye, we
See something unrecognisible and
Our Mind forgets - peripheral amnesia.
In my mind's eye, a shrub, just by
The Cam, halfway between Magdalen
And that disused barge, that
Used to be a gallery.
You've been there?
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