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Where?
TYPE
PoemHe said,
“I can’t stand it any more.
It’s doing me head in.
This place used to be like a village.
Its full of foreigners,” he said.
“I love Walthamstow,” he said,
“but I can’t stay here.
I’m going.” he said.
So I said, “Where? Where are you going?”
And he said,
“Spain.”
© Michael Rosen, from On the Move: Poems About Migration, Walker, 2020