A memory of a small but unforgettable part of London.

Walking down to Camden Lock

with colour and fizz all around

on a warm August day:

narrow boats, top hats and silk scarves,

old pubs, rent boys, spruikers;

The Regent's dark canal,

people-watchers. Music like jewels.

Such is the raucous silence

of loneliness.

Chris Hubbard

2018

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You left a lovely tattoo mark on our grey cloud world

Tatoo Suzi

your lovely bones will rattle on down the dirty streets

of Camden Suzi

where the bees go sleep at night only your hair knows

your hair Suzi

we can drink up in the skies by the railtrack bridge

your bridge Suzi

Break the broken heart

paint the damned soul dark

shut the shut down mind

...

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