Untitled in liverpool

Though you have no name on the streets,
An urban anomic luster
On the eyes of us,
You have a name in the taverns;
A name scrawled in once smoky
Clubs and
Centers of Commerce and
Cacophonous Curios.

You have a name in this pool, the collection of your efforts
With other names.
Chains of letters in communion,
High torque and winged.

Those avian mono-brows still scatter when we populace of Anagrams stream through
The nameless streets,

and ghostly Irish stories give name to us all.

By Christian Eriksson