Goodbye, Birmingham Central Library
Farewell, you concrete blot of brutalist architecture,
eight floors of dodgy escalators, low ceilings,
threadbare carpets and little natural daylight.
As the gatekeepers, the guardians of knowledge
leave their posts for ever, the Prince of Darkness*
believing he has finally claimed his prize,
the place where books are incinerated, not kept
has sent his death-eaters to hover and claw at the windows
when suddenly, up the Victorian spiral staircase,
circling up through the archive, up into the vortex rises …
not flames, but 40 years of human dust – up, up and away!
© Heather Wastie
Written June 29th 2013 in response to this article:
Now the demolition is actually taking place …