The Urban Scopes Poem by Anna Polibina-Polansky

We walked the mossy quarters of our city, in fungus and smoke, in scattered branchery and of broken sidewalks. Bricky plants and tubes, layers of up crooked storeys. The past was intricate and playful, the rusty metal lead us to ditches. We took right turns, we faced the past correctly and tactfully, for a reverent distance. So it was for Dickens or Dickinson when it turned to exploring their strict quarters. We followed the stitches of sideway lines that functioned no more. We explored the smells of tunnels and smoking of ovens that had disappeared long before. Building had changed their skin, walls had altered, dwelling had converted. The transforming city is a pendulum between two epochs, bygone and up rippening. We sit between two uneasy chairs, we face two differing realms. These galaxies are too opposite to get them reconciled. Industrial paisages are the best utopia for sensations. By Anna Polibina-Polansky