Paul Walker

London By Night

I'd been off coffee for two years,
Then I sank some Turkish in Soho.
It hit me like a depth-charge,
I couldn't sit still.

So I slipped anchor and drifted
the streets of New Troy,
swooning at the girls wailing
in their crooked Greek.

I docked at Trocadero
and hit the punch bag machine.
Smashed two hundred crosses into it;
straight knock-outs, both hands, each time.

A guy had washed up there drunk,
A vicious slash across his face,
red as a Turner sunset.

Like a dead ship in a storm he
Pitched and rolled, until
the bouncers threw him overboard
for bleeding on the slots.

Snuffing out my stern light,
I followed in his wake,
searching for rum and cigarettes.

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Add this poem to MyPoemList

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about London By Night by Paul Walker

  • Paul Walker (3/24/2010 12:46:00 PM)

    Thanks so much for your comment Jerry. The guy playing the slots in York sounds just like the one I watched in London. Glad you enjoyed your trip around the watering holes of old Northumbria. Best wishes, Paul

    Report Reply
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Jerry Buckley (3/23/2010 11:12:00 AM)

    smashing poem.....I had the good fortune to visit Stockton / Middlesboro and all parts within access of the rail lines from there abouts this past December....this powm reminds me of a drunk playing the Elvis slots in a pub in old York....great job mate....keep it fresh

    Report Reply
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?