Camden Town (25–27/08/17)
as I ride the northern line
I see the Camden Town underground sign.
an iconic, familiar sight,
it welcomes me home: this feels right
walking down the street, I pass
run-down shops and market stalls,
big red buses and shoes coming out walls
all kinds of people walk the market and lock
everyone is welcome here
everyone can feel like this is their spot
land of London’s hipster youth
land of Doc Marten shoes and boots, baggy tees and dungarees,
tattoos and piercings, jeans with ripped knees
someday I’ll return in denim jeans and jacket.
wear my hair up to show my undercut
feeling edgy as fuck
the pull of Camden
makes me want to wear
things my mum wouldn’t choose
different hair, clothes and shoes
at Camden lock market
I find all types of food from cafés and stalls
next to shops full of books, clothes and more
every time I come back, I think
the best food in London is found on this canal shore
at lunchtime, it’s packed
it’s Britain, so people wait in queues
nine a.m. is much quieter
stallholders set up, whistling tunes
as I ride the northern line
and I see the Camden Town underground sign
that iconic, familiar sight
somehow it feels just right
and as the train pulls away,
I wonder if, perhaps one day,
for more than a day,
I’ll stay
