Tristan Hazell lives and works in the shadow of the Westway on Portobello Road. What follows is a collection of observations, reviews, social comment, fiction, poetry, art criticism and more. Much of it is fiction and some of it will offend someone somewhere, I hope.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
As the ballerina grows she sheds her tutu to grow anew
and as she ages the tutu changes colour
from the gaudy candy floss pink of youth
to the white of her prime.
Quite often these discarded tutus
can be found at night
in the lanes and alleys of Covent Garden
especially after an arduous Swan Lake!