HAYWARDS — LIMITED — MAKERS — LONDON
Upside down, standing up and out on the steel of cellar plate
HAYWARDS — LIMITED — UNION — STREET
What stands there now?
Fresh glass-bound blocks, balconies crowded out
With detritus of a human-sized life
Overflowing from flat-lived reality
A gravel plot, somehow resisting
The demanding thirst for land and growth
A Lime bike, upset and scattered
By the phone box red commercial bins
Or perhaps the Haywards’ bricks still stand
Holding close within to rows of desks
Or stark white walls and a vast nostalgic collage
Plastered up from some Brighton studio
HAYWARDS — LIMITED — LONG — GONE
Long gone but still capturing my attention
Sitting here on a cloudless Friday morning
Scroby Elbow 