Sunday, 4 March 2012

London poem

The Thames runs red.
This is where the city was composed.

A thousand churches celebrate
the bulletholes in Christ’s palms
his shattered shinbones.

Financial institutions, and a woman
on the tube wearing a ‘This Is A
Fucking Expensive T-Shirt’ T Shirt.

Boat yourself upriver, and nod
nod, and be old again.

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