Literature
My city is quiet when I come home
I’m the only one walking this way
on an empty Finchley Road at 2 am
I ask the buss driver how much the
nightly fare is and he murmurs
something and I say can you please
just let me off at Camden town
I only have a tenner?
and when I come home my door is locked
and I scale the façade to smuggle myself into
the place where I can sleep
and it’s quiet here and the blossoms around our door
breath the quiet air
I’ve come from Germany tonight on a plane
I’ve read about the novel tonight on the M25
I’ve landed with a 737 tonight
but the novel’s in a dire way
and the city of London’s in a bad way
and I’m not doing too hot myself
to be honest
but what I’m struggling with is more than this
the honesty of this account
the what to say and how to feel
It was literature that saved the day and alcohol
will ruin tomorrow