"These Soho Streets (Narration)" Lyriikka

"These Soho streets are never really clean
Even after rain
The debris of the day fills one
Till it overflows
Then finds another drain.
Picture on image
Reflection of shadow
The ideas tumble
Continuity of flow
Log-jammed
The thought stumbles.

Before entering the saloon bar
He throws away the tiniest of butts
Like spit on the home hearth
It fizzes out as he walks in
The chin jutts
Then recognising a drink he knows by name
Chin relaxes on chin - boyish grin
The walk steadies
Only the tongue is lame.

By now you wonder how I know all this
From the smashed crucifix and bruised fists
To the fat boy with the note
Book full of scrawl and cypher
Living on cockles and calves heads
The rock pool diver
Dwelling in other people's sheds
Begging to be excused blame
For blush blunder and remorse
Wishing to appear confused
Aim unsteady but swept back on course
As time tricked a haven round the bars
Sweet cakes and bitter ale
Sometimes for breakfast."