The Colours of My Day

The look, the clothes, the walk. Creating one strength, a new creation in one who was created. It was on Moore Street, though there had been travelling involved. They should have built a theatre there all of those years ago when Dublin was the capital of Europe in this way. But that was long before the journey, from the east I think, that was the direction left, departed. And the traveller must have felt quite unique in this other place, a star of a show in meagre surroundings. Money was the motive of course, the reason why. I've tried to imagine that place, but I can't even seem to be able to pronounce its name. There was a visitor here, I could see the homelessness in their scare. I said 'hi' in welcome, but no-one was there. I opened the door as a friend, with a smile and a wink, I got the faintest smile back, and a city in the east came alive for a while, early in my day. I'd been shopping for some food and going nowhere and lonely grafitti told me to 'sympathise, there's separation here, you have to realise.' And blues played in an evening where I used to live before, I mainly just listened though I can't say that it spoke to me and I'm not sure if I even interpreted it as music, and I wondered about connecting the east and the blues, and the guy in the hat with my girl, I just slipped through the curtain when the scene was played out and walked into my mind again and changed the colour of my day.