Glitter in the trees
--Jane Yeh 

Glitter in the trees.
Glitter and shadow.  Leaves 

Massing like birds or
Faces, clusters of people passing 

Through the narrow
Streets, full of litter 

And heroes.  A serenade
Of buses down the road 

From the spaceship
Library!  Our incense 

Is the smell of raw chicken
And tilapia in summer, 

Our rough cassavas
Precious gems -- no 

Stopping between the hours of
Primark and Rizla, only dancing 

On a reservoir on top of
The world:  look what 

The cat dragged in.  Oh angels
Of Peckham, from the nail bars 

To the Common, we sweep
Your fiery steps clean.  The 

Clink of glasses
Is found music, a belated 

Poem:  our temple to lager
And order, archive 

Of dogs lost, old
House holding our stories between 

Its boards (please
Respect the neighbours).  In 

This ragged and ordinary
Palace, our voices merge 

Like rustling leaves.  The way
A dozen tea lights make 

A constellation:  stars
In the dark, our collective dreams.