Misery Hill

Through a bus window at 6am, condemned to see the dawn again, the grey unveiling commuter parade

Get off, snake your way down Wormwood Gate, arriving early, leaving late, ensuring lights get kept on, bills get paid

Every ceiling lowers, every door slams shut in seconds flat

From a smile on your face to a smack in your mouth just like that

Skim all your stones across the river. Wish upon a star

Throw your pennies in the well

You'll rest vicarious at best, until the morning bell

Pacing Misery Hill after 9, a history that draws a line from corpses hanging to a walking stiff

Water mirroring the neon strips,dying on the vine in between sips of

whatever grape or grain skews you whiff