A Tale of One City

Conglomeration of intellect and wit
With Billy Bryson in Foyles Bookshop
The sound of travel writing and jokes
Cheery bibliophiles high on the smell
Of new paper, varnish and ink.
Drunk on silence, queueing for autographs
While a nameless crazy scholar rocked on the floor,
Marinating in his own stink.

**
A stroll through Soho in the evening breeeze
Latent with distraction, ‘Dirty White Boy’
Emblazoned on Old Compton Street
Yummy cakes in windows, flip flops on our feet
30% off strawberry sauce and ribs
Rainbow artwork objectified the gay night
Their hands clammy in clasp, making a point
Gazes held slightly longer, longer in assessment.
**
Rounding the night up with music and drinks
Mojitos and shots of Absinthe are both green
So imagine my shock in Marketplace Bar
Where existential shit smirked from the walls
Taunting the Drum and Bass
Threatening sound barriers
WOOD stencilled onto wood in jest or silent reproach
Philosophy not love, residing in weird places.
**
Three stages of a night, in the womb of Londinium
Randomness and beauty, a tale of one city