You’re half way across Lambeth bridge when
you find yourself
shouting at the moon
and you’re shouting “FULL MOON full moon”
The moon looks down at you and it says -
who are you calling a fool?
It's you who is the fool,
I am just the moon.
Riding across Oxford street you think of
cork tiles
and the yellow walls you drew on
radio/cassette
a shelf you put up for shells you found on the island
Hardly able to turn the pedals for
GOOD FEELINGS