Attempt To Photosynthesize Family planted me
in London's thickest tourist district
Boxing day, day after Christmas
while the population's home
feasting on tea and crumpets
I run out the hotel,
nod to the doorman as he tips his top-hat
and wade through the water,
the soupy sea of Oxford Street pedestrians
wrists bound by shopping bags
necks bound by cameras.
I'm in pursuit of uncommercial, ungentrified territory.

In order to survey my prospects
I climb a construction canopy as if a monkey bar
hoist myself upon a tall dumpster
and peel my high eyes;
the tourists point,
maybe snap a picture.

And wouldn’t it be fun
to urinate on them, ev'ry one?