Proposal
If the Baker Street lights
go out, I will change my plans
and dance in the traffic.
If scaffolding yawns
across the steeple
of St Josephine’s,
I will bloody my nose
on the face of a banker
dreaming of a hot bath
near Marylebone Lane.
If the sky ripens
and the clocks spin backwards
and the news reports
unforgivably fail
to mention any of this,
I will drink juice
and curdle abuses
in my grandfather’s rocking-chair.
But if a frothy serviette
should wipe over the Thames,
tamping the soft ground down,
I will curse
the diamond roads,
forgiving the thunder.
04 May 2009 15:14
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this is excellent.
28 May 2009, 13:06
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