City day drifting between meetings, enjoying a quiet head &
east end backstreets, a cafe with a view of a road, a porridge,
tea & reggae package. London Japanese attitude food at Angel,
sun baked dirt & cracks & weeds, & walking, listening, trying
not to do anything between meetings. Catch an hour at Tomato,
where the vibes are still electric, where the light in the eyes
is still bright & where I’m increasingly drawn. A floor scattered
with artworks that excite me into wanting to make art. Find a
shadowed corner at the Barbican, listening to choirs practise
in the hall, whispered conversations I don’t pick pick up a pen
for once just let it all slip by, applauding coloured smoke
between the museumed towers of the 1960’s, making plans.
Driving late at night to park up, listen to the rain, heavy on
the roof, watch to the world turn fevered Pink in the broken
flash of thunder, smell nature turned electric, guttural rumble
at the back of radio waves carrying the shipping forecast.
These are the best times, quiet, hidden from view..