A London Cyclist foresees his death


Boris bike






I Know that I shall meet my fate

Somewhere upon Blackfriars Bridge

The Routemaster I love to hate

The cones – TFL’s privilege.


My bike rack’s at Godliman Street,

I cycle down to Waterloo;-

And when I’m carried from my seat

St Thomas’ will have to do.


Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,

Through taxis, cars and HGVs

A lonely impulse of delight

Drove me to pay those two pound fees.


I balanced all – my oyster card,

Those taxi fares – me short of breath;-

The gym routine seemed much too hard

In balance with those bills, this death.






With apologies to Irish Airmen and WB Yeats.

About henry tapper

Founder of the Pension PlayPen,, partner of Stella, father of Olly . I am the Pension Plowman
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