It’s spacious (for the money), with a kind of kooky
panopticon vibe: it’s all about unlimited broadband
access to other people’s rooms, all about slatted blinds,
mine and theirs. And who’s that girl, running around
in the drenched party frock? She was there last night too, on the steps
to the building where I used to live. Can’t tell
if she’s laughing or sobbing.
And I hear the sound of the underground train, sounds like
sounds like
sounds like
any other, really. And another car pulls into the shadows and
I wonder if he’s still in his old place, the lights haven’t been on
for weeks. If I could give you your picture
in black and white
it would look like
a mirror or
a window
mine or someone else’s. Step away
from those dusty curtains, ‘cause some of them
some of them
Sarah-Jane Norman is a cross-disciplinary artist and writer, known for her performance and installation practice but also as a writer of fiction, criticism, essays and poetry.
