East Westfield versus West Westfield

But really there is no contest. Just an enormous number of shops and you can go see-through, under so much surveillance. I saw the most pristine man, with a white fur hat.


It felt good at a base level. There was a swell of sound that took some tuning-in to. In between the jangle of elevator music and the sharp clack of crockery was the sound of humans. Hard to focus on, it was not in an easy range, but there. A soft strata of language at several removes. Chatter machined to something processed; homogenised speak becomes this warm burble. The sound of being alive. A hum in the hive. The noise of living that lifts of humans trying to be silent. A contented chunter.


But East Westfield versusWest Westfield? I couldn’t possibly comment except to say both are just a bunch of shops under a roof and then a lame tramp found his way to the Yo Sushi! restaurant and sat down at one of their tables. Then a swell of shoppers, all of whom seem to know each other, obscure my view of the tramp and when they are gone so is he.


About grahamcliffordpoet

Graham is an award winning poet, based in London. He graduated from the University of East Anglia with an MA in Creative Writing, and has since published nationally and internationally, winning many awards and performing at some of the most prestigious and well known Literary Festivals. His debut collection, The Hitting Game, is published by Seren.
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