Londons Calling
The Jew boys from Mill Hill and
Elstree
The ones who everyone laughed at in
school
The same ones you now work for
The Indian down the high street
hires the buxom blonde from Manchester
You know he’s going to finger her
in the back alley
But he gives her the occasional tenner
for a pint and dinner
And ignores the skunk weed she hides in
his restaurant bin in the back alley
The Manchester girl’s friend, the
Moroccan drug dealer has put to work for the johnnies
And free hand jobs for the filth
The Chinese won’t hire you; they
only hire the Chinese who arrive by boat
The red head from Yorkshire quit London
Met as she found escorting lucrative enough to stop the need for higher
education
The thirteen-year-old boys from the
projects blood the eleven-year girls behind the bins
The same boys who ride down the
high street on low rider bikes
Demanding, pilfering from corner
shops and grabbing a busy commuters iPhone
The boys and girls from Canary
Wharf on the Jubilee Line Train
On Cocaine at six in the morning,
either heading home or going to work in the bank
The Arab women in Louis Vuitton
Hijabs, Armani jeans underneath, Jimmy Choo shoes and Channel handbag
Old Arab men in marquee cars
driving their Russian escorts to their holiday homes in West Hampstead
Americans, Japanese and German
tourists, all confused and lost
They’re wondered into a bad part of
Old Street, where the African refugees live
The fear, the hatred, all-spilling
on to the street, simmering
Summers coming to London, its
beautiful.
