Poem: Wapping Shore

Sand yourself.

Descend the steps

To Wapping Shore,

The City Beach

You can be sure

You’ll be alone,

And you’ll get wet.

Unsuit yourself

wade through the mirky

depths, and bask

in bliss

as empty

Uber boats wizz past –

a break from work

Ignore your sodden socks

and search for shells

or rusty wrecks,

remains of men who

broke their necks

whilst hanging

up above the rocks.

Selfie yourself

don’t be shy

take a (s)nap

rain beating on your face

your favourite place

Canary Wharf

watching your back

Drag yourself

dripping and drenched

up to the Prospect

when you’ve finished.

count the pebbles from above

and sip on Guinness

in the cold.

Check your pockets

and your fists

to see if there

amongst the rubble

you just might have

accidentally

found a little piece

of gold.