LIZZI HAWKINS – NORTH WEST
Graffiti in the NCP Car Park
A boy has writ his missive here
in the half-built shadow of a Holiday Inn Express
and the white lights of a bridal shop.
Standing in the right stairwell
you can track his path across the roof,
from the golden wedding band of the lift machine service box
to the primary display of a telecoms tower
squatting on the corner of John Street.
He would have had to balance on the wall like this,
must have seen how the roofs on the south side are slapped on like thatch,
how in rain the green paint makes the top storey an inland sea,
that he’s flagging the deep end with his yellow tag.
When someone comes to white it over next month
they will cite it as anonymous graffiti
and will note, but won’t record,
that he’s stacked his letters like loaded guns,
that he’s written them again and again
and again like a prayer.