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Ode to the Pork Pies of Fleetwood

A babe in a pram,

Wheeled down Lord street,

At the speed of a tram.

Mouth engrossed with jelly and swine,

Melting fine

Michelback’s prime.

My mum grew up on these pies,

I too.

 

As an infant into the 80’s,

pate mini pork treats,

from Grimes butchers.

I suppose it is what you grew up with,

Your tastes, your clutches.

Jelly, pastry, succulent meat,

which ...

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Up int' Pool

California by day,

Las Vegas by night,

with flat caps, deckchairs,

and other English sensibilities,

once dying, maybe still,

 

while trams rattle declaring

sealife promises,

to stargate pleasures,

to Cher and her 'life after love',

entwined with the pulse of a rollercoaster.

Sounds of Saturday football matches,

played hard on soft sand,

menace resting seagull...

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