Passing for local
You're asked for directions, but
Your vowels betray you.
Two people embrace
On the corner of Wells Street -
Their last awkward kiss
On Hungerford Bridge
Your smile and the June sunshine
Dispels my regret
Morrisons, Chalk Farm
From the train window signals
My adopted home
A pint of Black Sheep
And a song on the juke box
Is all I ask for.
Watching the football
On the Underhill terrace
Is no match for home
Nothing says Sunday
In Soho like a pigeon
Pecking at vomit
Upmarket cafes
Keep out undesirables
With seven quid scones
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