Ugly London

I love ugly London

The cables and stones and old disused carriages

Lining the overgrown edge of long forgotten tracks

The muddy puddles in Hyde park after 3 days of rain

That adults avoid and children attack

The tags and graffiti on every bridge and underpass

The honks and toots of buses indicating to get out on Piccadilly

Waiting for a space the way we wait for the green man

In that we don’t

I love the wind whistling through the tunnels on the underground

Like a maiden made of nothing playing tag with the trains

The sticky, hot, muggy days just before the weather breaks

And your nose can smell again

I love the tube late at night

When there’s only you and one other poor lost soul

Trying to find your way

To a home you don’t own

For the duration of that journey your home is the city

And you own

Every inch of it

I love the cobbles in Covent Garden

The way we pretend we like walking on them because they look cute

In our photos

Cobbles were designed for an age

Of sturdier shoes

I love the factories and the mass built terrace houses

Of the industrial belts

Evidence of an age when people got what they worked for

And the world was new

For everyone

I love the way the skyline is

Never perfect

As soon as the newest tower is up

Another 3 cranes have started on one

Just next door

I love the hidden football pitches

Under the duel carriageway

The pockets of bars and clubs

That stubbornly exist in a place where

Nothing was really supposed to thrive

It is dirty and dark

A damp cold pit

Full of broken pieces

Makes it easy to pick out the treasure