Monday
and I'm shuffling in to work
so
let the week begin.

Do you remember when it used to feel real?
and when back then it was no big deal
to
be a man and earn your keep,
now
I wonder if it's better just to stay in bed and sleep.


The mirror looks the same
but
it's a different face I see,
what's going on outside
reflects inside and
poisons me.

Bow Road is a slow road
the way I go to work road.
that is coming from the East
and going to the West.

and the end smokes cigarettes
quite calmly so as not to disturb
me.

Thinking it's all about
the cues we use.
are you in a queue?
do they use you too?

There's still time,
hidden between the
decaying buildings
and
clogged in the cracks
I buy
two more packs
of
lucky strikes,
nails
to seal the coffin lid.


At Aldgate
I wait
for
Thomas
who tells me tales
of Canterbury
and speaks
of Henry in
hushed tones.

Did you hear the pad
of footsteps on the sidewalk?

history come talk to me
but
there's only the future here
to walk with me and
presently
I join in,
let the week begin.


My time nears me
and I weary,
clearly
something is not right

written out of the script
popped in by being
pipped at the post
and that's the most
we can all look forward to

step out of line or
stay in the queue?
it's up to you
isn't it?