08-23-2021, 01:16 PM
At The South Bank
High citadel of culture.
Cold clad in concrete
and high admission prices.
Squat, on stilts, a Malay
village above the Thames.
Here gather high priests,
the social elite,
to pay homage to the best
art that money can buy.
Yet, beneath their feet,
the only music
is canvas slapping
and the crackle of fire.
Here Paddy has built
a plywood home
in the chill cleavage
of a stone-arched breast.
An art-lover, lost between
two grey mausoleums,
falls easy prey
to the creative menace
of a begging bowl.
Van Gogh, they say,
was also insane.
Note: The South Bank of the Thames in London houses the main Art Centres.
High citadel of culture.
Cold clad in concrete
and high admission prices.
Squat, on stilts, a Malay
village above the Thames.
Here gather high priests,
the social elite,
to pay homage to the best
art that money can buy.
Yet, beneath their feet,
the only music
is canvas slapping
and the crackle of fire.
Here Paddy has built
a plywood home
in the chill cleavage
of a stone-arched breast.
An art-lover, lost between
two grey mausoleums,
falls easy prey
to the creative menace
of a begging bowl.
Van Gogh, they say,
was also insane.
Note: The South Bank of the Thames in London houses the main Art Centres.
I saw the boys of summer in their ruin. Dylan Thomas.
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www.everley.link