Fleurs De Mill

Fleurs De Mill

I resolve

To realise the exotic nature of Leeds.

Then to illuminate it.

Beaudelaire.

Appolonaire

River Aire

You see.

It follows

Paris is now a tourist trap.

Stop me if I talk claptrap.

But the rents are too high.

For demented poets to get high.

Only bankers can get by.

Paris is postmodern.

Leeds is stuck in the past.

Merely modern.

Not enough moolah to be the cool roolah,

of collapsing meta naratives.

We are still conquering the machine age.

Shell suits are still the rage.

In some quaters of our sons and our daughters.

In postmodern Paris the situationists would have been airbrushed out.

Digital efects in films about leeds amount to nowt.

Im not being workerist.

Seems the working class has been dismissed.

Though their breaktime.

Is let them eat cake time.

The fat in the cake is the real crime.

Parisian paupers were too thin.

Our diets are yet to begin.

So where is the beauty in this.

Poor people eating and getting pissed.

Even the white collor.

Get drunk and holler.

At passing gangs of chicks.

How like the nineteenth century parisian poor.

Who liked to drink and to whore.

Although of Armani we have more.

What use is a Gucci handbag.

When you get hooked on skag.

But to sell it to buy some more.

So you see our dillema is the same.

To swing between glory and shame

The difference in truth.

Of which there is proof.

We hunger less for bread than for fame.

E J Povey