If the epiphany stuns it can
hardly be felt. Let it be out
here. Walking up to the white
plaster walls of the gate; all
that remains of the demolished
lido, apart from a few shattered
chunks of brightly painted concrete.
This ruined world is free to be
reinhabited, but by whom?
There to walk without a mate?
It is not without people in a sense
but saturated with an ego trying to
isolate itself from a former ideal.