Threnody on the Death of a Street Lamp on Lollard Street, SE11
by Matt Haynes
O noble lantern ’neath whose kindly fire
my love and I did oft together lark,
our bodies, lust-engorged, ’twined in desire –
why hast thou gone and left us in the dark?
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For The Greater Good by Matt Haynes
Mother, by the time you read this I will be in Tegucigalpa.
Don’t worry, I’ll be fine; I just wanted to let you know
That I have buried the body of Nigel Farage
At the back of Uncle Terry’s garage
In Bow.
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The Ladies’ Pond
by Alison Marr
The swimming ladies of the Highgate pond are various.
Some are old and lean with hard thin arms breaking November ice,
Others are buxom with low slung breasts shifting as they move.
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by Howard Colyer
Goalkeeper’s fumble,
Bywater can’t hold the ball,
then the rest follows.
Piccadilly Line
by Leighton Critchley
The man sitting opposite me on the tube
is reading Moby Dick.
He’s not quite
halfway through.
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Bin
by Christina Petrie
My broken devices
Stand in municipal juices.
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Threnody on the Suicide of a Parking Meter in Dagenham Brook, E10
by Matt Haynes
O dark devourer of the driver’s coin,
What broken dreams was this leap meant to fix?
What hope-denuded skyline did enjoin
You to cast off on this East London Styx?
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A Poem Written by a Foreigner
by Raphael Gancz
At some point in this poem
you will notice I’m a foreigner.
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Busker
by Phil Callaghan
Posted at the foot
of the escalators
he whistles
I’ll never fall in love again…
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by Alexandra Lister
… through plumes
of cigarette smoke, the boy with the
anchor tattoo got drunk for the first time
and we looked up to see the early swallows come
in over London like tiny bombers…
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