A place that can’t exist again (a poem)

Inspired in part by a New York Times an NPR story about Chris Stein’s photography…

We were never there, were we?
Sure, we saw the photos
all black-and-white and grainy

The sneer on his face
the reflections in her shades
ripped jeans and back-alley brick walls

Spiky hair and leather
the wild-eyed stare outside the club
you know, the one that closed down years ago

We will never go there, will we?
There’s just no way to go back
to a place that can’t exist again

(7 January 2015)

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