At night kilted barmen service all at the Scottish pub and the fug of omnipresent fags drove me from the old Dublin tavern (as well as Guinness at $12 a glass)
Posters extol not revolution but the new religion of Kredit, Stella McCartney's perfumes, Versace and of course Fosters. A boy passes with an England soccer shirt with Lampard on the back and the triumphal monuments must have been great feats of soviet foresight for youth benefit as they are now the welcome site of skateboarders and in line skaters.
Palaces are being restored, Government buildings and footpaths decline, trolley buses rust but the banks proliferate and shine as temples of the new dream.
Dark clouds and rain blow in, causing a flutter of brollies to break out below my vantage point (a department store cafeteria) Such is a July day on the border of Asia and at the gateway to Siberia.
Next day!!
Bright warm sun changes all. Cafes open up in squares and along the river bank like flowers after snow.
No comments:
Post a Comment