The View from GOMA

Angela Gardner

I can see into the empty offices

and on the far bank, through archways,

a factory yard frames groves

of plastic crates stacked onto pallets,

where trucks jackknife

to reverse park.

It’s quiet here between shows. The river

side hotel advertises cable tv,

empty balconies (a single chair

and aircon units) level with the traffic.

Clouds are building. Through a break

XXXX.

Observe: a sign flashes, a man walks

across to the hostels on Roma.

Thunder is in the air, it’s time

-lapse, incremental, and no-one

lifts their heads, as cars exit

the bridge to approach the roundabout.

I address the park – soft-headed

with grasses, formal with bike paths,

where only water-pipes and stop-cocks

lie prone on the grass.