Liverpool is baggy black tracksuits and bristled haircuts
Liverpool is tight blue jeans and flowing hair
Liverpool is a man suckling cigarette stubs outside the Adelphi
Liverpool is a falling crane
Liverpool is a gale halting you on Renshaw Street
Liverpool is Blackburn girls, Burnley girls, Shropshire girls, Derby girls
Liverpool is kissing on hot midnight slip roads
Liverpool is your arm across your breasts in the dark
Liverpool is the volcanic dusk
Liverpool is the smell of microwaved animals
Liverpool is pigeons eating chicken wings
Liverpool is the old violinist of Bold Street scratching out a tune
Liverpool is jobless and underpaid
Liverpool is a street of abandoned houses
Liverpool is an open sky.
Liverpool is Old Swan: aunts and uncles, cousins, scouse for dinner, lots of kisses
Liverpool is cinema: scaling rooftops in the dark/the juice of putrid pigeon flesh/stalactites/decade-old popcorn still for sale
Liverpool is pissing in the sink
Liverpool is Allerton and artificial football pitches
Liverpool is eleven-a-side in deepest winter
Liverpool is lolling my calf muscles in the back of your Dad’s car
Liverpool is blood in the corner of a bedsheet
Liverpool is coming into Lime Street
Liverpool is cracked paving spitting murk
Liverpool is cathedrals like ships anchored inland
Liverpool is an open sky.

© Daniel James Greenwood, 2011

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