#2,460 Fortunes

In Kent & Sussex I play Count
Pill Boxes [those squat cobbly
containers of Brexit elixirs] – A
Madam Sosostris on Brighton
Pier had told me all of this [of
living alone] – Her urgent eye –
warning of hags & gatherings –
triumvirate of hates – of lust &
fucking off [of travelling alone
on humming trains] – of sober
nights in a narrower bed [with
less tuggings] – My train is line
& length specific [on time] as
we sway through still suburbs
into cool London’s underbelly
of brick archways [& Victorian
girder excess] – Near Ken High
Street I drink coffee outside a
two-seater café – here is a city
comfortable with rich spoils &
that irregular scent of laundry
& cash – Barkers is still there –
a redundant white ghost – My
coffee cools with my waiting –
Rich young things parade their
pampered dogs & kids from A
to Z [no one uses actual maps
these days – Googling instead]
& my date sits on this day met