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.