Buskers playing to the street crowds,
Tricksters palming dog-eared cards,
Tipsters handing out their forecasts,
Spivs on corners shouting street cries:
'Hot dogs, ketchup, golden French-fries!'
Stalls of whelks and stalls of veggies,
Marrows, barrows, squash and gourds,
This is Bermondsey in winter:
Frosty fingers, breath in clouds.Stalls of gaily coloured canvas,
Hanging limp in chilly air,
Dewdrops on the costers nostrils,
Cur-dogs curled up under tables,
Counterfeits with Dior labels,
Scarves and gloves and deniered stockings,
Ornaments of gaudy stained glass,
This is Bermondsey on Friday:
Nimble fingers work the crowds.
