They say that in London
you're never more than 10 foot
from a rat
and a stone's throw
from a poet.
The space in between is taken up
by stalking survey takers.

The crooked streets
that were once paved with gold
are now peppered
with monochrome gum,
half finished poems
and generous cigarette butts.

But out in the painted parks,
within the chorus of churches
or secured in our community halls -  
that's where you can still hear us sing.