A short poem about what is happening in Liverpool and Everywhere

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Note to the reader: this is not a poem

The pictures are falling from my walls.                                                                            Because the paint is too heavy.                                                                                    Illusionary landscapes are real landscapes now.                                                                    No need for tonality or warmth of colour.                                                                                Now I write another poem that nobody will read.                                                                There is loneliness in these words                                                                                          I tell you the supposed reader in plain terms.                                                                  There is no need to hide behind poetry                                                                                  I won’t try to clever with you.       

Helen Ivory                                     

I’ve been documenting advertising billboards across Liverpool and the North West of England for a couple of years. See my post – Gerhard Richter. From Stoke to North Liverpool. You can see the effects of Brexit and now Covid, across these unloved and weathered spaces on Great Homer Street and Derby Road.

There’s another emerging narrative, a post lockdown, anti lockdown and disinformation war raging across the uk. With our economy falling off a cliff and posh people fleeing posh ski resorts. There is some comfort in these small landscapes. The tangible writ large. You only have to stop and look. We stopped really looking for such a long time. Drawing is about looking and seeing.

I won’t try to be clever with you.