SOUTH OF THE RIVER:

 

Two artists met in a south London flat to jam. One arrived 

in town by train then caught a bus to a pace he’d never been,

an adventure across the river. He got off at the wrong stop, 

or at least that’s what he thought, but as he walked through 

the streets vibrant images of scratched decay & torn paper 

walls made his eye jump around in his head, making him hungry 

to paint, letting him know he was on the right trail. 

‘Captain Pawn’, Hype hair sunrise’, signs spoke to him, 

greeted him, tipping their hats as he passed.

“Say ‘hello’ to the new Orange, he’s the Man, ‘we’ supply

the broadband”.

He grinned, slipped a camera from his pocket & gratefully 

accepted everything that was offered him. 

Later, much later, he stood, dazed & disassembled, rocking 

in a freezing wind on the lips of a north bound platform,

vibrating. Not even the glare of the lights could defused

his crumbling, nor the latent violence carried in the the belly

of the train could slow him down. Images & sounds came to 

sneer at him. No shapes or colours or symphony of city noise 

to lift him, the night was taking him to pieces from 

the inside-out. 

 

(K)