RNINGTON Way Out

For your own safety Change here. The next station Will be exit only. You have a vital role to play, beds, sofas and furniture loafers. The station is Kentish Town. A Northern Line train terminating at High Barnet. 18/05/2018 — It feels like a lifetime ago that many of us who jostled through the London

blushed apricots, green-skinned Hasses

Can you believe two years have passed since the London Olympics? I was fortunate enough to attend an evening of paralympic events. It feels as though it was only last year that I was sitting in the massive stadium, with an enormous lion emblazoned across my t-shirt and yelling encouragement at the athletes. Clearly, it wasn’t. That

Trapped Items

The sweaty gym clothes yelled in the tog bag, m8t$er f%$*er could the day get any worse? But in the Zara and Topshop bags, short summer dresses from the 50% off rack just giggled at the hope of seeing sun. The backpack lugging the laptop for an evening of more work simply sighed. Weary would

Past Euston, 09:50

37 of us shuttled along as we sit or stand with our regular doors. They are the ones with which we enter Thursday morning in Zone 1. They are the ones where we could change here for Victoria Line. Too late to exit for Morden via Bank. Your regular doors can be dangerous. You could

In a serving basket at the pub

Sea-salt diamonds dot their freckled, crisped up skins. They are the evening heels that come to our table. — In a pub gathering there inevitably comes that moment when the group becomes peckish. Some institutions offer gastro pub nibbles, such as artisan-crisped potato skins. Depending on the group, these (or prawn crackers) are chosen over

the currency of sugar

in glasses: wine, cocktails, liqueur, on plates as cake and biscuits from two discarded plastic tubs, a litre of ice-cream Lonely is the currency of sugar. — I’ve eaten two squares of Lindt, 70% cocoa, as I prepare this post. My head’s throbbing lightly with the sugar rush. Depeche Mode is my soundtrack, Can you

Tube sketch (one of a few)

The man with the notebook draws attention. The woman alongside hum drops her Evening Standard to glance. Left-handed he is writing with a ballpoint in a Moleskine, A5-sized. Two page turners across from each other. — The poems this week centre around London and the ordinary, daily observations living in this metropolis offers. Our first