Your shaven pate has the hue of a whole economy
chicken in the freezer cabinet though not corn-fed
with the yellow almost foreign tinge and you are not
kettled because you do not care though you are trapped
inside the centrifugal force of this one-way system
and a mediaeval subway through which I used to pass
though nowadays I favour the sky caving in above the city
and if you with your frozen chicken skull your naked mask
were caught beneath the wheels of an articulated truck
lost east of Leman Street I might stand by you and love
yes love might flood the vaults we share those newly-minted
magnificent and sunken plots.
Tom Chivers 
A really well-written piece. It reminds me of something I started writing in my head years ago but never got down onto paper/phone.
Much obliged, Rehan