New Cross - A Brochure

Steve Burge

In Dave’s Diner,
by the Hunger Hut,
I gaze down the Old Kent Road
into this heavenly vale.
They can pull a pint
with a broken tooth
and I have hidden
in the generous peel
of their wallpaper.
You can bring all your
forlorn tendencies
and feel yourself
emptied of shame.
There is a virtue
in getting the run-down
absolutely right.
In the Montague
you can talk to skeletons
under fluorescent lights
and drink the pride
of our ancient heritage.
And who the hell are you,
I am in the pink
of fish and kebab
with my cool Victorian
Guinness vase.
I pull the soft flesh
from its shell
and mutilate 
scum purity.
Come with me and be a man.
Roll a cigarette and chew
tobacco with your speckled teeth-
we’ll watch the horses rocking
on a big washed-out screen.
I’ll buy a whisky
and praise the Virgin
close to excellent traffic
and fine curbs.
And you can shove
your fucking Oxford Street.

E-mail Steve

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