SAN FRAN
…
So many pieces of the puzzle, there is no need to hide
but they were lost, caught in nets on Pier 39
Like an unfaithful son on the day of his bride
the colours of this city run and they rhyme
Pollock might say its a bit of a daub
until each piece he numbered
Pasted my memories in a red, paper book
there, all bands all should have names like Doctor Hook,
Flying Burrito Brothers, Jefferson Airplane
Hate was spelt Haight in that part of town
and the clever kids all wore a Berkeley frown
Nathalia my friend she dressed in a sexy gown
We walked for miles up and down and there
across the green in pastel colours
that row of little houses, little boxes
A little Malvina Milder/Reynolds maybe loved
when she was a small Jewish daughter
wandered into the famous Chinese quarter
Union Square and Macy’s, the photo’s are coming fast
We take a trip out to the Bridge
don’t drive too fast or blink, in this mist
even International Red will blur
and that massive Bay is slipping past
No time for Vertigo or to take a Bullitt for the team
In hippie land, now a spiring concrete forest,
or among those massive Redwoods
on the other side, its still the best place you can dream
If little cable cars don’t quite drive you to the stars
if your tired hop on, the corporation
will not charge you until you sing Your Song
The corporation will not warn you of the people down below
the street of shame where each dog born had a different name
yet now in cardboard, rags and jumble they sound the plain same
Step out on the street over homes and yet your room was cute
high-ceilinged estate, ornamental cornice,
bed linen tasteful, great, without a crease,
Air conditioned, sound-proofed, high windows barred
you could be living now on Mars
except your worried as you walk the line
Those inhabitants of boxes down the lane
those aliens of shame
will get in your face again
let the booze loose
exhalate their pain
So we sat one night in John’s Grill to consider where we’d been
what we had seen, with 2 free glasses of water
edenbraytoday
17.11.2020
LONDON TOWN BY THE DIRTY WATER
LONDON TOWN
by THE DIRTY WATER
(LONDON TOWN BY THE PURPLE WATER)
…
Walked from the West End to Streatham once
we had been out on the razzle-dazzle
Lived there later, I knew London Town
It’s back streets and its souvenir trail
I drew street women in art classes at St Martins
Met the tallest man in Britain
When Holborn, Longacre and Covent Garden
Still showed signs of the forties war
The Garrick, Queens, Adelphi, Dominion
The theatres were old and cold and lived-in
..
Salt-beef sandwiches on rye with mustard
From the Turkish Bar in Garrick Street
Or the Sandwich-Man with spotless hands
In his tiny shop of mirrors and three bar stools
Hamleys, The Wedgewood Shop down in Regents Street
Turn left at Oxford Circus, up the road
Past Selfridges and the Bond Street stores to Marble Arch
and heaven, which is Mayfair! – then left again
Down, opposite the Park, where the Bunnies hopped
next to the elegant Dorchester Hotel!
..
So many the places, so many different coloured faces
Don’t forget to mention the art,
Walking over Waterloo Bridge to see the Messiah
Or the Moody Blues at the Festival Hall
The buildings, museums, stadiums and stations
and the dirty river, must not forget the dirty river
The old, cold river, the colour of liver and onions
or the docks where it all started, this town
On the East-end side, north of the Tower
and Southwark, Lewisham, Greenwich
..
We were St Dunstans kids in Surrey,
ferried around in a greenline bus
A bus de-commissioned for trips such as this,
It soon smelled of kid’s travel-sick and piss
Then in the middle of November
In sixties mist with that drizzled rain
A trip to the Docks, its boats, warehouses, cranes
Children of under-11 on a day-trip with Mr Weston
I now know what ‘the Origins of London’ meant
100 miles down from the town, Thames Head
..
edenbraytoday
18.11.2020
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