London was never so full of ghosts.

You wore your coat, black and white check,

your own style, with your swept-by fringe.

 

I thought you might be humouring me

but you felt it too, no way was it a favour.

We had our A-Z,  picked up a leaflet

and we wandered. And we got a little lost. . .

 

It wasn’t really cold. Ducked into the Museum of London

for hot chocolate; gazed at flints, stone axe heads,

armour and darkened skulls - offerings to our mother Thames.

Recorded birdsong made it special. Inside the London Wall.

 

Back to the cries of London, my history hit me in the face.

Visions of Bermondsey urchins.

Cries from the Rookeries, oysters, new oysters

and the smell of river mud.

 

We search, we wait, the song begins.

Twenty seconds every five minutes.

Small clusters, mostly women, hover.

Waiting for art.

It’s magical and sad.

Suddenly

London cries.

　

 

Susan Philipsz: SURROUND ME

A Song Cycle for the City of London
Saturdays & Sundays only, 10am - 5pm
9 October 2010 - 2 January 2011