1666 Poem by Maurice Rowlands

Where are you?
I left you on Pudding Lane
The flames are racing towards me
Where are you?
I left your bed, you were sane
Your guinea was coming towards me
Where the hell are you?

Where are you?
I thought you were mine for the taking
Is Whitehall worth all this pain?
Where are you?
This heat! My poor legs are aching
I left your bed, all the same
Where the hell are you?

Where are you?
London is burning
I gave you my body, stranger
Where are you?
I satisfied your filthy yearning
I need that guinea in all this danger
Where the hell are you?

Where are you?
You haven’t paid me yet
The streets of London are on fire
Where are you?
This one will never forget
The next time you have your ‘desire’
I’ll be waiting
In the flames
To take you