London, 2013/4

The world is grey outside. It mostly is;
was just so for a year as time went by.
Later the sun breaks through the clouds; the sky
has opened and the colours of the streets
are blooming once again. The crowds of twits
who wait outside Madame Tussauds are shy
of nothing and chat away; small babies lie
oblivious in their little prams of bliss.
And down the Marylebone, south of the Park,
a certain building houses certain fear.
They say they are the finest in the land –
of course there is some bitching, there’s some snark.
But then you paid good money to be here
and so – you put your music on your stand.

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