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Then I realised there is no central being,
no person in a back room with an Akashic list
or metaphysical clipboard in Hammersmith.
Ultimately, ‘Fulham’ does not exist.
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No single person can validate your support;
will loyalty points cross our final threshold,
rowed over unsettled water by a ferryman courier
for passage to a packed away end
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Is a land or person defined by a word
as place names gesture to shifting rivers
or long-forgotten visitors? There is no club
beyond shared drinks over synaptic brail grids –
at The Bricklayer’s Arms or The Crabtree –