Late night, Rome uni write, failed badly — 

I smell rain through open window, 

it breathes over mouse shit 

still to clean 

scene 

of drought, existing. 

The big black dog comes out and again we meet. 

He is meeker this time, panting in the scorching heat. 

If I had a Monopoly on my life, 

I’d capitalise on Old Kent Road right through to Northumberland Avenue, 

renovate them and sell them for millions above asking price. 

You don't like red wine, 

But you tried it for me anyway. 

Orange soda on steaming cement pavements, 

Broken skin and fleshy Band Aids 

Screaming voices and home-cooked meals. 

Dilapidated yards of dirt and gold – castles of broken wood and black tarp.