Here in the UK, “orientate” is actually an acceptable verb. And it’s one they use often.
The London Underground map is a thing of beauty, but this is not that map.
There are flocks of wild parrots in the parks,
but the true avian symbol of the city is the crane.
Cities are made of walls. In London, these walls rarely stay in one place for long.
London is built on clay and with bricks made from that same clay. No wonder everyone seems so self-absorbed.
Statues stand by to call us on our mobiles
and fountains let us control them with a sweep of the hand.
One art college puts its students on public display
and a natural history museum incorporates its staff into the exhibits.
The spirit of Jeremy Bentham is everywhere,
his panopticon an accepted dimension of British life.
A squirrel can’t gather leaves for its nest without being followed and photographed multiple times.
Someone is always watching,
someone is always plotting their escape.
Dead white men are still lionized
with their mighty compasses
pointing the way to the Age of Enlightenment.
I’m still not sure how to bridge that gap.