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she's Called Latonya In Oxford Circus
Cut-glass cheeks, nazel brown eyes
Ample pouts, shivering shouts
Frivolous fish-nets bidding goodbyes
Some blonde cop hugs
As if all of us are but thugs
Some munches nibbling chicken fries
Awaiting coffee mugs
Some planets......never love
Some players.......never match
Some spectators at watch
That some credit never crunches
With the debit in clutch
Some trying to wash the linen
As if have never seen a raven
Here.....nobody knows her abacus
Come Spartacus or Selukas
Here......no-one knows her parapharnelias
Come Cornelius to Copernicus
But she appeared......
And disappeared
A well with her apparatus
An American said
She is called Latonya in Oxford Circus.
poem
by
Amit Ray
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