By Dean Shein

Early August.

 

I had the friendliest Lady serve me today.

Gloomy people walked by.

It was raining.

The lady ran outside.

“WAKE UP. IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY.”

1 English breakfast please. 

No Beans. No Sausage. No Bacon.

She was of Persian decent. 

We spoke of the ‘Persian Nose’.

Her joy was infectious. 

Her smile was big. 

Her eyes were a clear light blue.

She could have made even Kim Jong Un laugh.

 

Forgive me grey sheep.

  I sit perched on your hard work,

    to my right is the metallic grey Westbourne Bridge,

        urban and run down,

            but clouds flow over,

               Reminds me of Brooklyn. 

 

Opposite is a red brick structure. 

Cream pieces stacked on top of each other. 

Jenga. The odd window is open. 

3rdup 3rdfrom the left contains red and white flowers. 

Who where they for? 

         What do they smell like? 

                When were they last watered?

 

The sun is now out.

 Just like Sheyma had wish for. 

A man in bright orange man walks past. 

A fluorescent Man… 

With ideas…

Viewed through our lens…

As just another dull worker. 

 

 

Lady in blue passes by. 

Head down. 

Looking at her phone. 

Phones are good. 

                               Are they not?

The cars roll by one by one

 Like tumbleweeds

                                                                                      They float by…

More trucks

More orange men

 

This time a coloured man.

More cars

 

 

The sky is now blue

I thought I just saw some rain

A big wet drop

The trees look green here

And now it’s a race

My typewriter is about to run out

Another orange worker hovers past

SKANSKA tattooed on the back of his jacket

 

Clean streets.

It’s cleaner here.  

Quieter. 

More peaceful. 

Another orange worker passes by. 

A family tries to cross the road.

The women all have a similar haircut. 

Short black and straight. 

Germanic.

 

 

 

I had to relocate. 

On the bridge I noticed the worn rivets.

I saw half a beer on top of a mini. 

I laughed. 

Who put it there?

The weather is taking another turn. 

I’ve found refuge in Toast.

A small and cosy Japanese café. 

I still have not ordered anything.

 

They have one of the most futuristic ceiling fans I’ve ever seen. 

The top part, stuck to the celling, looks like a lemon.

No. It looks like the end bit of one. 

The blade below is a silver and resembles a spoon.

I wonder if it is a Dyson?

 

What an adventure my TESCO bag and I have had today.

And it’s only noon.

Oh.The powers of waking up early.

I wonder what is next? 

 

 

Time to catch up with some old friends.

In eastern Europe. 

A quick trip to Budapest. 

Or Bucharest?

How gothic.

I dream of borscht.

 

 

I love Euthymol toothpaste.

Oh yes I do.

I love Euthymol toothpaste.

Purely pink and fluoride free.

I love Euthymol toothpaste.

Oh yes I do.

 

 

I find it fitting that today is Louis Armstrong’s Birthday.

He would have been 118.

Today, I saw see trees of green. 

Violet roses too. 

It really is.

a wonderful world.