Leeds

Harehills

Harehills, choked up with red brick
and flowing with arms and legs
neon, rubbish, laundry and takeaway food
and trees, receding up the road towards Oakwood,
Gipton, Gledhow valley, smells of fruit and spices
from the grocers' displays and the restaurants
traffic endlessly flowing through a nexus
and the hills swarming with rust coloured terraces

everything is moving, snow in a snow shaker, storms
of thought and movement like driven raindrops
the hotels are half empty and the call shops are full
as everyone tries to reach home -
distorted words at 30p a minute, stories that now seem strange
and back to the neon, red brick labyrinth,
storm-stunned, hallucinated and now precious