these are not installations
but people sunk to paving-stones
propped up by walls,
with the open wounds
of their caps and hats
bleeding for coins ;
open cloth mouths
screaming while they're subdued
and defeated by the smells
of all the food stalls :
noodles, curry, pizzas, bread
voices arguing in their heads.
These are not soft statues
or street theatre actors,
but people with stories
like the river, see
the debris and erosion,
notice that familiar reflection.
(Bristol, August 2016)