London

I am 27 researching in 1973
London at the Public Record
Office on Portugal Street living
With a friend sharing digs in a city
Where the audience in cinemas
Stood up to sing God Save the
Queen and hot bathwater
Came from a cylinder on
The wall which required
A five-shilling coin to
Light enough hot
Water to barely
Cover the tub
Bottom for a
Fast bath
In tepid
Water
But the
Whole city
Felt like a Beatle’s
Winsome kaleidoscopic
Song whereas by 1978
London felt more like
A Rolling Stones
Tune and the
Bright colors
Of the late
60’s and
Early
1970s had
Changed to
Thatcher grey
And the PRO office
Had moved near Kew
Gardens far to the west
And no one rose or sang in
Cinemas to sing God Save
The Queen but if you took
A careful look at flower
Pots on sills on back
Streets you could
Still see a bit of
Bright other
Than the
Weather
Bits-o-bright
Forecasts as hope
Springs eternal in the
Human heart making
Love bloom even
Under the most
Depressing
Regime
Where
Cold
Rain
Fog
Mists
Give way
To the warmth
Of human feeling
As I hum along riding
Into work oh give me
A home where the
Underground
Roams even
If the skies
Are cloudy
All day,
Not
The London
Homesick blues.