London, The Ungodly Hour

2am

Cracked glass under my feet

No fucking cigarette

And I'm tired

Dog tired

One barks at me from behind a railing and I bite back

Shove it, mutt.

 

There's no such thing as moonlight

I can't see a fucking thing.

I feel like I've been had somehow

Cheated out of something

I can't think what of right now of course

But it'll come to me

Don't you worry.

 

I'm not even close to home.

But I can't take the trains or buses right now

I can't take anything except these gaping amber streets

And thick air.

 

The river café is closed

I could howl

And no one would hear me.

 

Laughter and I look up at the blue and white people

Sitting above me in a revolving glass dome

Drinking wine with accents in their names

I think about where I come from

And realize that I could never have been one of those people

I go on

And so does life.

 

The water below me is ink

I could dip my finger in and write like Shakespeare

Suddenly I hear a saxophone and a voice the colour of the mellow street lights

Know what?

Screw it

I'm dancing home.