Morning Memories (Hackney)

Alleyway of dogshit and humanpiss leads me home.
A man irrigates the guts of a machine for cleaning the streets;
Smells of fagbutts and cleaningfluid.

Inside the souls where the fagsmoke went:
The sour-rot and springcleanfresh.

A man with a can open too early this morning
And a Staffie I wouldn’t trust,
(Though it’s probably bigotry)
Shouts at his dog coarsely
And greets me in friendship.

Alleyway of dogshit and humanpiss leads me home.