they wore trilbys and overcoats
smoked all the time
and always voted labour
it was nineteen sixty nine

they were children in the second world war
they were my uncles
in woolwich south east london by then
in their thirties

they were worn, tired, always smiling,
great blokes

the older she gets the more
beautiful she looks at me growing
older too and gives a most
conspiratorial wink

café society meant
a bit of a natter
over a cup of tea -
we’re not french

the city grows bigger every year
I think maybe there are
too many restaurants

out walking
this evening
is grey

grey buildings
grey rain
bows

drained rows
of veins
flow

with
grey    ..  

out walking
this evening
is grey

grey clouds
in our eyes

and I smoke

telling lies
and you choke -
and the flies  ..!

out walking
this evening
is grey

the silence
    creaks
  with barrows
and feet
   depositing crates
  on the pavement

dried mushrooms
   black beans
           and chinese tea
  
inside the shop
     
  I smile at
the attractive 
     assistant       ..

met her
  in the gents of the red lion
didn’t say

anything of course
        I mean
   you don’t in the gents    ..