|In the late 1970s, in Camberwell,
Eddie Brindley gave me the following poem
about the casual employment office in Mortimer Street, London:
|What do you think as you pass them
Sleeping in boxes under the sky?
No sheltering roof or nice clean bed,
The pavement a pillow for their head.
Don’t rush past, just stand and wait,
You’ll never get rich at Mortimer Street,
To most it’s just the price of a drink,
© Eddie Brindley