Tripping in London

‘I lost my wallet outside Clapham Station

And I found it up my sleeve'

‘Yes I really lost my wallet outside Clapham Station

And I found it up my sleeve

Sat in a beer garden

After I’d called the Transport Police’ –

And that has to be a metaphor

As I lay here on the grass verge of something

Looking up

At what? I don’t know.

Perhaps I needn’t be scared

Because

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It’s never too late

Art not being your life

Your life not being art

Was a masterpiece not once a mess?

A sludge of colours inside a poor man’s breast?

But I can’t even dream of doing that…

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laying here on the ground

I can really see the stars -

How many do you think that there are?

and if one fell down

then turned back around

he’d be shocked at what he could see

I bet he never knew just how beautiful he could be…

**********************

So enjoy You

Enjoy this view --

What a beautiful thing to be stuck inside your own head.

**********************

All aboard the yellow brigade little brother

This buttercup battalion still breathes.