Kingston, Bank of England (Behind Part One)

yes he was very good. Same man as last time…
not gunna be able to foreply tonight, mind
comes out from behind her carefully, dozenee
bleech and gelled like a suburbs helmet.

I can hear the man say through her mouth from where I was standing;

Let him learn. Let him commission the portrait of our horse, if that’s what the man wants that’s what the man’s getting.

For a split second the place forgot me and my brain went alien cold and bleached of all knowledge - ? - inherited on the escalator going up towards this giant meshy white dome of cells, my eyes scaled down themselves around these layers of inside colours + outside shapes. Objects detached for seconds were unrecognisable as the words rumbling from some tanoy syncing in unreadable white protrusions. Shifting retinal planes retracting+detracting. In other shifting flat textures of my self directed musical fate are adding artificially to the emptying stomach of this whole estranged doming and petrifying drift of my occupied sense of space. Even in this unparalleled paralysis the identified thought approached me up there, to say that I could go back down again, depressed and alone but make a living writing plainly and stupidly about the abstract shapes and senses with fake infancy within the soft safe centre of chosen world architects.
Falling from the dome down the escalator would be a first even for such ahuman structure, and a sinking feeling on top of me that I am too grounded to let me be taken with otherworld hits. Thus having located another conversation over using each others tongues or mother tongues perfectly, dull but satisfyingly for them- another angled wave of dizziness for me. So off they came out my ears down to why the previously white working woman with the regional diamond trainers, high trade mascara, confident gestures and dead closed eyes, softly lectures desperately smiling Indian girl- clutching wholesale scripts. Convince me with your soft smile- make me see your way with your sensitive hands, nice lady. Something about how he didn’t want to be killing those peoples, cemented his mind and brains in my predictions.