Every time it rains in Kings Cross I am reminded of the first stanza of Kenneth Slessor's poem William Street.
So here is the poem, and my pix taken in William Street during last week's downpour as I ventured out to get some nice Italian wine.
William Street
The red globe of light, the liquor green,
the pulsing arrows and the running fire
spilt on the stones, go deeper than a stream;
You find this ugly, I find it lovely
Ghosts' trousers, like the dangle of hung men,
in pawn-shop windows, bumping knee by knee,
but none inside to suffer or condemn;
You find this ugly, I find it lovely.
Smells rich and rasping, smoke and fat and fish
and puffs of paraffin that crimp the nose,
of grease that blesses onions with a hiss;
You find it ugly, I find it lovely.
The dips and molls, with flip and shiny gaze
(death at their elbows, hunger at their heels)
Ranging the pavements of their pasturage;
You Find this ugly, I find it lovely
This shot shows the 'running fire'. It was PISSING down! |
1 comment:
How beautiful is this poem. I too find it lovely!
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