This Garden

This whole city slum is my almond garden
streetlamps my saplings
and the pylons my trees

I breathe deeply, the
dustbin decay
the summer of love, and the dandelion
breeze.

Thick eyes and streaming sneeze,
this vintage pollution
an expensive year.

I'm just an alumnus of the
sprawling asphalt,
smashed beer-bottle glass
my diamond ring.
Denotes my betrothal to
the bitumen fields,
where the screech of bus brakes
will howl and sing.
The choir of roaring engines,
grace the wedding of conurbation
and man.

I am perfumed with diesel,
And the black sweat, the grime of ruin
Compacts on my face,
London roads provide cosmetics for free.

I do not seek escape or understand
your garden.
My day is here with my urban god.
My life is a plastic rustle
on the pavements
I will always tread.