Dank Corners

On my one walk a day
I mooch along the quiet residential streets of Brixton.

I thought I would miss the park more –
the ducks and swans, the walled garden, the lido, the BMXers.

Instead, I look forward to uncovering dank corners,
those places where someone bodged a build,
a damp spot where two walls meet for the sake of it,
and where no light can reach.

You find them full of plastic rubbish
where a housing block’s been tacked on to another in a rush
and out the backs of warehouses where people
aren’t supposed to smoke.
When I find them
I pause
mouth ‘wow’
and wish they were portals I could step through
right out of here.