Other than unformed notes I hadn’t  yet written the  introduction to Benjamin Zephaniah for his appearance
at The Queen Elizabeth Hall in London tonight.  But
the wild horses were gathering  on the
horizon.

I arrive home un-rested 
and unwritten after a five thousand mile overnight flight from South Africa.    I
unpacked and balanced the  South African
Masks upon their plinths around our home and then cycled  to The Southbank Centre.

This is what I missed when away.   I park
 in the riverside rooms where the artist
in residence are based and within seconds a camera crew and interviewer are
bungling themselves through the door. I’d scheduled an interview at 3.15pm   for a
new initiative called LitUp  Singapore.

I can hear the thunder of their gallop. My notes for the
intro are rustling.  The interview goes
as well as interviews do.  And between
five and six pm  I call in the horses  and they leave a trail of sentences.  I then print them. I print  the Benjamin Zephaniah
introduction.   It is exactly what I wanted it to be.

At seven pm I meet Benjamin back stage  who is sat comfortably with Rachel Holmes in
the green room.  By seven thirty five Benjamin
saunters on stage to rapturous applause. He smiles    “next
time  I 
introduce a  girlfriend to my mum Lemn…Will you write the
introduction?” he tells me. He’s happy. I’m proud and he delivers a
blinding set of poems to an audience in awe . Great to watch a master
at work.

I pop up to the artists hang out in the RFH where I meet
Thom Priestley, the  son of the late JB
Priestley whose book  “An English Journey”
  had its relaunch  in The Purcell Rooms tonight. I imagine if JB
Priestley  were alive he would’ve  met with Benjamin to say hi.    Benjamin would have  joked with  Priestley about his pipe smoking and Priestley
would have made some joke about  weed. 
They would have compared notes about their respective events.   An English Journey indeed.

I am exhausted.  At  11pm  I get on my bike,  switch on the lights and cycle off and over
waterloo bridge,  round Aldwych,  up Holborn,  through Islington onwards, onwards to Dalston into
Hackney and finally home.