(Let’s take a walk) Knee-deep in nettles and the weather tipping change – Thick silt raising spirits Beating through the new-grown neural pathways. Footsteps sounding in my shadow Stepping on the heels of a hot new take And ghosts crowding the airwaves. Bike racks Improvised. Steel drum love songs in a counterfeit night The last time – (The last time). Hairstyles may change but the rhythm stays the same – Thames Clippers snake below like something slipping away. Dawn-treaders tipping fifty quid black cabs And the so-blue Soho Sunday mornings. Window ledge existentialists With duct-tape garters holding up understudied understandings And lipstick rolling down on the underground. Snow fading on eastbound train tracks To great cavernous suburbs of ambition. Beetle-eyed buildings blink across the quays like a fiction. (But it shifts and the silt lifts when we walk along the river).
© Georgina Barley 2019
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