Stretched like a contented cat

Nine Elms Lane

from west to east, the Thames hard by,

from which savage cuts have made

a ditch at low tide to guide

flat bottomed barges weighed down

with black gold to feed the retorts

with their tongues of flame.

 

A mist meets each morning with a curse

of workers spilled out from buses and trams

knapsacks for the hard day ahead.

 

From the cobbles spring networks of support

piers, stanchions, sheds in brewery yards

sawtooth roofs are blind from the sun

then streaked from rain.

 

Sounds of the harder kind make protest

in a man's world - chains, drills,

the clanking of trucks, hard boots

on flags, gravity itself on trial and winning.

 

Screwforce the cat wanders with careful paws

to find amongst the smells of ache, sweat

and gas his bowl in a caring foreman's corner

never overfull.

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The new riverside apartments

have rejuvenated the area

a unique and delightful view.

 

Nigel Foster with nametag, portfolio

and griping stomach scans the balcony

makes a mental note that his shoes

need a clean, but the man with an accent

doesn't seem to notice that

nor the rising smell in the loo.