A visitor to this blog has asked me to publish this photo and the following poem - it is my good friend Robert Trellisand - the wall man of Kentish Town. Robert and I met at the Torriano Meeting House and we have talked about pomes a bit. That's Rob's letters, his mortal coil, you see there up on the wall just beneath the brand new job by a local artist.
Face to Face
Super-graffiti’d on my wall, a name –
Not Hollywood, L.A. and not New York
Those bubbly letters seem to fizz and uncork
Champagne, a white froth promulgating fame,
While my letters have no such fancy claim,
No glass to catch them, ice to make them work.
Mine are the fine fume a New World dame
Exhales when she’s got Thunderbird to walk.
I share my being with this pride of place
My dreaming mansion suddenly a commune;
What twist of Kismet, quirky stroke of Fate
To pair me with this jaunty fellow, face
To face with: .Kentish Town! I’ll say, Fortune
To stand by him; am proud to call him mate.