Kirsty Smith

come in, wondering
walking on crunchy stones
tv still in the corner
tiny screens in tiny holes
huddling between warmth, crumbling through my hands
looking through endless tunnels, where do they lead?

a tour of the tower
a guided walk
they’ll be nothing left of you

on my bedroom floor
in my hoover
the view to the sea
It was better before
piling stones in your archway
crawling through your tunnels
where do they lead?

on the roof, you can see all
my journey to you
through the branded high street
the pancake house
the marlands
the best pizza in town

they should know your true value
we know
I’ve observed
I’ve recorded
I’ve taken you home
the creatures that lived, we’ve found their shells

your shapes
your touch
your leftovers

arranging my objects
your objects
arranging your parts
I’m making you
I’ve made you
I’ve got you under my skin

the texture of the floor
CCTV in operation
the beautiful bargate
the reflections in the windows
a circle of stones
record my journey?
with my eyes
with my ears
with objects
with my thoughts

buses rushing
memories in mettricks
I’m walking through the history
golden touch
the fish station
gloucester square
evening charges apply

short cut
walk the southampton walls
what do I take today?
I’m taking in your world

filling your holes
low ceiling
the plant room
a number of emergency lights aren’t working
I like your upstairs the best
you open out, onto your walls
that stand proudly through the city

we branded you
your dust forever on my shoes
the work still upstairs
belongs here now
we walked the walls
from new to old
from old to new

you stood proud and you still do

can’t figure you out
I’ve drawn you
collected you
I need more of you

collecting your things
your cracks and crevices
catching your shadows
the architects
pouring over my surface
your grains in my carpet
you make your mark

slow down
take you in
breathe in
drying out my skin

recording your corners
scanning your stones
the green light’s always on
always on my mind