Brick ships loom through the clouds
Pastel buildings, yellow sludge of flowers
Peckham is at her brightest now
Deliquescent. A cut-price utopia
It is light that binds us through the murk
A glimpse of Florida millionaires
Today's chatter – the economy
Experts dilate, on six-figure salaries
The city is a vast, decaying hulk
We are its ghost crew, its shadows
Autumn pavements are wreathed in mists
Like wraiths, we slide through its cracks
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