Victoria

Brighton to London

different voices in the Lavender,

I have many

but there’s too much –

yellow flowers interrupt

and many more than leaves

blur past your widow

and suddenly next to you

someone taps your shoulder

and stutters out of sleep

to quiet clamoring

insistent

Victoria!

No not yet

Settle

Flop over your seat and rest

until someone locked inside

bangs on the cell’s borrowed door,

clang a pot on stone until

your fingers bleed –

Victoria!

soon, soon.

there’s something about those

places that I hate,

be it the fluorescent lights

or the endless rows of shopper’s

specials, lazily intruding on your stroll –

count yourself lucky to see me back

again,

this isn’t customary your know

this isn’t fair

how did you link it all together this

time,

before the song is sung

and timid swans staked out

in fields laid waste to the sun

some intrusive effort

mumble Victoria!

just let me go

it’s too…

let me

So this is where we’ve left us?