from Greg McLaren’s “After Han Shan”


This bedsit is home to a country boy.
Buses or cabs rarely drop passengers off:
the street-side trees so still that crows roost here, 
the gutter full of cigarette butts and used frangers.
I go chocolate shopping on my own,
smoke joints in the park with my girlfriend.
And in this little flat? Books piled high
on my bedside table with the Chinese landscape print.