(20 minute poetry)

Under London
brain off
auto on

avert eyes
cut ties

In a cocoon
soon be there
soho square

life is rife
in the
West End

under London
this son's protected
eyes directed
at the floor

can't be any more than a bystander
when the seats are full.

Workmen and Women
all swimming downstream

I go with this flow, it's
the glue you get used to
the one that I know

smell it?

I can.

No one high
they all try
to be
inconspicuous

can you see them?

I can.

A swarthy gentleman who
smells of paint

a lady who ain't
what she seems

a tannoy
announcing,

mind the gap
doors closing.

Dreams

a beach so close
I could reach it

daiquiri
dearie?

a
bolt from the blue when
lightning hit you

a meadow
a hedgerow
a time to sit
and watch
the grass grow

but it's time to go

Soho

I walk to the sound of it
in the mood for it
now.