Soho take
this shabby spicy artful
clutch of streets
a
fist against convention’s stifling paw a classless cache of
artists and downbeats
writers
pimps and punks from every shore a
café for the trampled and the driven the Huguenots, Hirst, Hazlitt, Shelley, Marx
a
gabby place where failings are forgiven a
late night binge and peeing in the dark celebrities
take bit parts on the stage sheer
force sucks frisky tourists from the wings look! trannies
- spot oiled men dancing caged librarians
let down their hair and sing best not dream of being Keats or Smollet kids on eagle’s
wings could nick your wallet. Liz Callingham
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