Friday Fool



No specific place to go

finding ourselves in places we don’t know

streets with coloured walls

and food stalls


Friday is nearly over

when strangers walk slower

than the gallerygoer

cafe regulars turn into

pub and club queue


we got on a swing

and sing

climbed up a thing

and spin


stared at pigeons eating

nobody else stopped walking

except for three dogs

who also wonder why

they toss the bread high


I looked like a fool

laughed like a fool

something so mundane

looked insane

I don’t care

whether the pigeons or me

looked more like clown


In that moment

I was fascinated




London is sunny

and funny



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