Angela Inglis

   

 

 
Let's throw away that stuff, and start from scratch

 
Pulling down the last of the coal drops, February 2005 All the coal drops in Pancras Road have gone
their skins as thick as castle walls, old bricks,
an artist's palate, oxblood, titian, peach,
mahogany, coral, rust, rose pink,
bulldozed into dust;
                                 like Roman ruins
in their demise; fanciful by night;
archways into a past now swept away.

And in their place a concrete shed, cloned
from other termini, a railway look-
alike from anywhere. It has no heart,
no love built in its walls, no gothic shapes
picked out in black or subtle shades of pink.

St Pancras Railway Bridge and Brill Place, May 2001 Where is the bridge that proudly wore its stripes,
that pinked the air - that strode across the road
and shouted I am here, look up at me?

Brill Place
                  where sunlight played its games
                                                                   is ripped
apart;
                         where are the multi coloured bricks
the rich mosaic, oxblood, titian, peach
mahogany, coral, rust, rose pink?

Bulldozed into dust.
 
                                              Angela Inglis, 2005
 
 


 

Poetry and photographs Angela Inglis 2000-12  I HomeExhibitions I Writing I King's Cross I Credits and Links