If you're tired of London (poem)
If you’re tired of London
you’re doing it right
every night at warehouse raves
young ‘uns dance
on old poets’ graves
John Berryman
gone now with the ferryman
couldn’t cadge a pint tonight
and Bukowski’s been bruised
in a petty fight
about who’s got the ego
and who’s the most uptight
on the night bus
even Sylvia Plath
can’t help but laugh
at the drunk
who’s drooling
his thoughts unspooling
soon not to be pleased when
he wakes up in Neasden
