Many of these sadnesses I did not understand,

Being young, only young, and hopeful….

With always enough to drink

But I knew desperate longings fluttered all around me.

Underneath the West way blasted by the Pink Faeries,

We changed perspective, altered everything to live a life on Mars

Wandered up Portobello; looked at the exotic fruit and veg,

Revolutionary legumes when everyone was still eating spam.

In the apple market, down Kingston way, I listened to Bowie,

Drifted away: there were lemons on sale again, India Pale Ale,

In the little London boozers that still remained

From the Betjeman days:

Leather for the bums, shining brasses, black and white photos

With their stained glass windows still and their sweet smell

Of marijuana in the beer gardens.

….

Now here in 2019 the prevalence is for the continuance of an ageless fear

That wrecks the pointless, pointed dollops of serendipity

That make life worthwhile.

Can you hear me Major Tom?

……

And this is how the water crisis will begin

Look at what the Israelis have done to the river Jordan

Civil at first, then more and more thirsty

As the increase in temperature kicks in,

Nothing grows, no irrigation

A war of each against each

With thirst as the weapon of oppression

And it will end in the holy city

Of Jerusalem,

And many will burn their eyes,

Before this is done, or dies.