you watch your town turn grey
tanning to a pound shop
Tents under subway
I took to watching the decay
no coach trips to far off places
momentarily marooned in Croydon
And the moon is praying
for some other place, any place
whilst the feral pigeons pontificate their point
Have you heard this one
said the Mayor for change
to some other place, any place
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem