| london is the autumn way the wind went and pretended it when a london is oyster waiting to be eaten all grey, indistinguishable blurry in its jagged shithole and no pearl london give me your giblets organ lumps that the no one wanted fellows upright in drizzle or supermarket offers detached from sailing card’s bright colours the roadworks sing Pop Song ‘96 while we wait for green london, fling up your umbrella in hallelujah fling up your dresses fling up your puddles with lorry caresses |
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