As Friday’s sun descends

A manic grip takes hold of the city.



Shoreditch on Shabbat like

A holy land for revellers.



Here the city ignites, the senses

Are at once dulled and overworked



Suits pull suitcases. Weekend trips

Coincide with business meets



Filling hotel lobby bars

The Ace, card dealt on payments.



Shaven bleached heads

Sidestep less fortunates



Begging for more, more, more

As night turns to morning



And mourning the nighttime

Bodies dance through



As sun ascends - bleaching the eye

but beholden because it let’s us go.