The words were hard fought,
often a mere 300 a day.
The German hospital in Homerton,
a vague memory of the great man,
unwell, capitulating to his demons,
and those of Empire.
we now fear incoming gentrification,
just as deadly in some respects,
red in tooth and claw,
that new humanity,
and missed by a century,
this age of fevered,
I'm still heading up the river,