The scaly forest crouches
under high tension wires.
In the roaring train, windows open,
we flap in a scorching gale.
They’re windsurfing on a dam
under a slagheap.
A crazed pigeon flops
in the thick air.
Flabby Germans down beer
next to the Turks and gypsies
on the steps of Essen Station.
Hot taxi drivers shout obscenities
at girls in the car park.
We escape to the Naturpark
where bratwurst smells drift
over piles of packaging.
From the top of a firetower
I look down on the smoky pall
wishing for fire.
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