My feet drag through the active street,
various kinds of people flow past me
singing to the tunes in their earphones,
conversing aggressively with one another
in English or their native tongue
My eyes fixate on a couple of misguided teens
flicking chips at one an another
hanging outside of Pixies
laughing like the world doesn’t exist
My nose inhales the aroma the plantain and okra
The African man who owns the shop shouts across to the Jamaican man
who owns the barber shop opposite him.
Frenetic school children ride their scooters with no self-awareness
and sense of danger, I swerve to avoid them,
and give way for their overworked mothers
and nannies who run behind
I smiled at the sight of his long stretch of road
The tall red W7 bus drives past the tall 210
but stops with no care for the miniature cars behind them
they exchange joyful words as the song of the horns sound
They chuckle and smirk then carry on, on their respective journeys
Still strolling, I see vivid colours of grape green on the on the banners
of the hair shop
I see pomegranate pink on the hairdresser’s windows
I see cherry red on the swirl of the barber shops pole
I look into the shop’s window and see all different coloured type wigs
sitting pretty on these doll heads
I heard the drunken chatter of the pub people,
clinking beer glasses and stumbling out of the World’s End
One said, “Hello there darling.” to me but I kept on walking
changing directions and crossing over to the Chinese shop
I over excitedly waved at the owner, and he smiled and waved back
Over there, there were a bunch of giddy glamorous girls
walking in heels too high for them, and skirts too short
I can’t say that… what is too short anyways?
Oh, never mind, they were free, as free as this long stretch of road
Men, whistled at them but they perked their heads high like flamingo’s
and continued on their journey, down Stroud Green Road
Unaware of where it will lead them, what it will teach them
what they will remember, what they will see
In the crevice’s, the cracks, the back of the shops, the minds of the people
I’ve yet to really see. Will I ever? I carried on Stroud Green Road
How alive and cultural it was. My eyes twinkled.
I grin again at this clustered stretch of road
An everlasting voyage
Stroud green road.
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