After the game the victory shout.
Then the stadium spilled us out
to buses waiting along the mile
between Highbury high and Ashburton Grove.
And I held Islington in my pocket
and I carried it home
to horde under my pillow.
What fleeting visions!
Seen on a day of thin clouds and suns
where the ephemeral beat
of Bergkamp’s dancing feet
rocked my brain into a trance,
until I ran through the streets
making aeroplanes with outstretched arms,
listening as other grown men
sang Arsenal songs into the starry night.