Stamford hill marina

There's a brewing storm
as i bob up and down
like the raven
just about to poke your eye's out.
Everyone can feel it as they bob up and down.
Swans are ducking,
minds are speeding.
Tape box is shouting the right words.
'Anarchy in Hackney'.
My bags look at me
Ensuring that they are me.
Loving the sound of energy.
The city of forty
are happy with no stone.