PERIPHERAL PLACES

Crumbs on the edge of a plate Once consumed by the hungry metropolis Chewed up, clamped tongue to cheek Discarded now.

That smart set of pearly whites Rooted out, rotted Post-war housing dotted, cracking with age As solitary teeth untether from gums Where gold once glinted – the shine of loans.

Roads: dried-up tongues that snake Without shops, third spaces, to satiate Job loss, drugs, suicide Creep onto front pages, Permeating as smoke did in The good old years – the Goodyear tire factory, gone.

Industry once seared chimney bricks Now liquor scorches throats Washed down by drinkers gathering at windows Shuttered and grilled Like metal stretching flawed teeth.