Old virgin lady in a bottle of vinegar

Old virgin lady in a bottle of vinegar
A shrivelling Victorian, a well-preserved chimaera
About to go mad from tears she can’t cry
Almost insane from feelings denied.

Old Joe London in a leather jacket
With bombings on his doorstep, riots in his garden.
The Prime Ministers face like a mask of china,
Shattering in a kiln of gothic architecture.

How different are other people’s lives,
How narrow their footpaths,
How small their rooms,
With the hum of the traffic in the yellow lamp lights gloom.

Hackney 1979

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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