London
was always about learning.
Drinking
the sweet water of this strange ocean
Gorging
on the seaweed of experience
Swilling
the plenitude of beauty and of tat.
For
London learning is no mental arithmetic
But
a deep frying in its rumbling fat.
True
I sampled the delicacies of its university:
The
proletarian sandwiches of Birkbeck -
Extramural
nourishment for the masses.
And
the nouvelle cuisine glitz of Goldsmiths
(If
in the workman's caff variety of
The
community work department)
But
the public libraries were my more normal menu
Making
surprising discoveries like
Flesh
and Stone
or People of Providence
These
were the books which helped me
Make
the recipe of my urban learning:
An
unbohemian mix of academia and poverty
But
the true pedagogy was immersion
Because
somewhere in my gentle soul
I
knew that it was this I needed:
The
rude instruction of people who act
Before
reflection and learned in suffering
Not
the lightly toasted wit of a dinner party.