London Underground has long been known for promoting the arts in its premises. Besides the musical buskers licensed to yodel and squawk, poetry has been published and put up in unused advertising space within the trains. Often these are defaced and replaced by various eco-terrorists (pace the peculiar Sing a song of Esso), but more often than that, we get such pieces as the following, by Grace Nichols:
LIKE A BEACON
In London
every now and then
I get this craving
for my mother's food
I leave art galleries
in search of plaintains
saltfish/sweet potatoes
I need this link
I need this touch
of home
swinging in my bag
like a beacon
against the cold
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