Ant Smith

All poems

Project 269

A strange sense of zen descends that's heavier than the rain,
Ten stations left to visit then I'll have conquered this terrain
Five hundred miles of travelling have built up on these feet
And in a sense I guess I have seen all there is to see

Now I have been to London but I did not go to see the queen
For these places hold their life-force not in treasures but in streets
I've passed through every borough, and I've listened to their tongues
And I can guarantee to you there's still life left in their songs

I've travelled through old Metro-Land and plumbed the very deeps
I've recorded all the monuments of triumphs and defeats
But the images that linger more betray a true conceit
This very land was wrought by its peoples' energies

So I celebrate you one and all, in your ugly loveliness
For when you pick the scabs away you're truly marvellous
Now as I walk towards a cigarette, heading from the train
I contemplate what lies beneath, and yes - I would do it all again

So I celebrate you one and all, in your ugly loveliness
For when you pick the scabs away you're truly marvellous