StreetScene

by David R Mellor

Thursday 15th August 2013 1:08 am

STREET SCENE

That’s a tanning studio

That’s a chippy

That’s a tanning studio

That’s a hairdressers

Empty shop

That’s a smoke free Wetherspoons

That’s a closed pub

That’s a couple strapped

for cash

That’s a family next door

whose giro

couldn’t last

That’s a fake tan

That’s a discarded chip paper

That’s another fake tan

That’s just a street

come to the end.

MellorDR (youtube)

The Poetry of David R. Mellor (facebook)

Comments

David R Mellor

Fri 20th Oct 2017 09:53

Thanks Phil , and yes it is

Philip Stevens

Thu 19th Oct 2017 20:03

Familar scenes in towns and citys..liked the delivery

David R Mellor

Sat 17th Aug 2013 20:08

poundland tanning studios ........... and violent pubs

Laura Taylor

Fri 16th Aug 2013 09:18

Isn't it just?!

David R Mellor

Thu 15th Aug 2013 18:59

very true that's the bloody north at present , well done

Laura Taylor

Thu 15th Aug 2013 10:28

This is really quite close to my poem 'Walk to the Shops', written in January 2012, and published in the Leeds Debacle, page 7

http://issuu.com/thedebacle/docs/debacle8

Here it is in full:

WALK TO THE SHOPS

Slip into the sprinkle of a drizzle-filled day
Plastic bag crisp in hand, aiming for the shops
Feet to floor
Pavement pound
Carry on
Past the step
yellow tread
bearing Bulmers: lippy-stained
halfway drained
Pavement decorated in
a strange shade of sick

J’arrive at ‘The Parade’!
The Mean Street of Thatto Heath
Stench of piss and pizza
wraps itself around my mouth
as I kick along the papers
that cradled last night’s chips
Pit-shaved grinning princess,
billboarded, looks down
From within her perma-tan, she oozes
anonymity
Blinding me with bleachy teeth and peachy poreless face

I hope to fuck my DNA does not contain that kind of clean

Feet to floor
Pavement pound
Past the bus stop;
betting shop;
fag shop; tat shop;
takeaway; SALON;
takeaway; TANNING;
takeaway, takeaway;
CHIPPY.
Luckily:
‘health advice for minor conditions’ -
free inside the pharmacy

There’s no water in the fridges of the takeaway shops
And I didn’t want pop. They looked at me weird.
Social pariah, for wanting water.

Feet to floor
Pavement pound
Homeward bound
Past the salon
Chip fat alley
Tan tat fag bet bus
Ministering pharmacist
Past the step
yellow tread
Bulmers gone
Small red shoe there now instead
… wonder who..?
Tiny tatty lone red shoe
Torn too. Wonder if she’s..?
Nearly home
Nearly there
Rid my mouth of piss and murk
Home from hell on earth
a walk to the shops
and a musing or four
And then I recall
I forgot
what?
I went for

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

StreetScene

Comments

Please consider supporting us