London Is An Endless Skirmish Between Angles

I Don't Like Allegory.

Word Spread Because Word Will Spread. Stories And Secrets Fight, Stories Win, Shed New Secrets, Which New Stories Fight, And On.

My Google-fu Is Strong.

A City Like London Was Always Going To Be A Paradox, The Best Of It So Very Riddled With The Opposite, So Swiss-cheesed With Moral Holes.

Perhaps The Window Is Not A Sun But An Asterisk, Interrupting The Grammar Of The Sky, With Me Sitting Below It Like A Footnote.