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Caitlin Ellis Aug 2019
the bittersweet homecoming
these telephone box blues
distance has humour
life does too
Dirt Witch Jul 2019
The resounding muses
of this rash riddled air
are as follows:
Feces
Garbage
A skin-bloated scent of leaking mammals
It is hot and full of ***** phantoms, wafting softly upon the breeze of London's ill-conceived streets.
Pineapples Jul 2019
Gifts of god and life floating on muddy tides

Staring into the abyss of murky ripples and abandoned dock land.

I feel at home in the wastes of rusted steels

Let me decay with the surroundings

Hollow echoed sounds of my own breath

I am London

London is me
Chris Saitta Jul 2019
Death has pluck, you know, the like to sever love,
Then to show unannounced after the ruckus,
Even after so many no-shows at the theatre or club.
Death, indeed, is a tough sport, I am told,
Who plays cricket or some the sort,
Though no one really knows or asks,
“Wicket” does seem a word of choice.
But, for certain, a devil’s ouija hand
Of bridge whist, as sure as lives off
Pall Mall or Regent, as pipes a walk
In the London fog, here and there.
Yes, indeed, I would call him a chum
If he wasn’t such a cad.
For slide video:  https://www.instagram.com/p/BzwQo2zlqNz/?igshid=1vt7piqu9lefb
Mitch Prax Jul 2019
The city never sleeps,
it's too busy wallowing
in broken dreams and
smiles as vacant as the buildings
that are too tall,
and too bright
to ever close.
Steve Page Jun 2019
London.
What do you need it to be?
The Capital?
A powerhouse?
An icon?
Your career boost?
A short city break ?

For me
it's home.
A city can be different things to different folk.  I live here.  It's home.
Oskar Erikson Jun 2019
downpours in june are expected in london
like the rushing to the tubelines at closing time
the warmth of the morning undone
raining in june is nothing short of a crime.

like children in suits the 9-5ers
leap from raindrop to raindrop
with umbrellas writhing against eachother like tethers
only for the briefest connections can we stop.

there's no point looking into a rain-battered soul

its only when we move apart can we truly be whole.
I am
in Eden
a mother's
brother but
this chunnel
is surf
London would
scarf to
the sands
therein dawn
as their
bridge was
to cross
the air
with Tim
where in
Times Square
A town in London allied Thames
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