Walking down the street on any night in Preston |
Preston is lit with white teeth and street lamps tonight Smiling faces and glassy eyes Staring blank and transparent Leaving little impression Holding pint lagers and cigarettes Lolling in conversation With numb tongues Flapping loose statements Preston’s students In large groups, drinking and drooling This is their passion This is their drive in life Draw little from social events Talking to people is mandatory As far as I am concerned Either I am being questioned or listening Police sirens mark the evening air Red and blue sirens howl wildly Leaving startled girls with big pupils Wondering who’s gone wrong The screaming police car buzzes past and I light up The smoke dances over Preston’s skyline Floats high over the black tarmac roads Through those glassy eyes and smiling teeth I watch the last white wisp of smoke fade away Continue down the street in time with my Ipod Stepping to “waiting on a friend” Imagining myself on any New York street in Summer Those New York streets where people are hanging out Just sitting on steps near red fire hydrants And children play innocently And all the while the sun shines But I wasn’t on any New York street I was in blank, cold Preston Blank and transparent With a blue and grey panelled British Telecom building The street descends onto a roundabout And I stand there on the edge watching And I gaze wildly at the students Watching them weave and dip from friend to friend |