Spring on New Street

Beyond Cineworld

There’s a point of aspiration

A spike of hope stretching

For its slice of sky.

To its left a pile of pink

Victoriana seems to rest upon

Its own future,

A strip of street-level charity shops

Forming its foundations.

 

And everywhere Spring elbows its way in.

A junkie shuffles to Morrisons to beg

From shoppers with a fresh lightness in his step.

A couple in mobility scooters

Stop to exchange a kiss

Outside the denture repair shop

Just as they did in those smoky

Years when Atlee made

Such palates public property.

 

Two council workers bright in orange

Overalls silently signal

Danger, but their caution is casual.

A young lad regrets his lack of a classical education

When his first tattoo – “Mam: In Memoriam”

Gets him a skelped ear’ole

From a mother who remains aggressively alive.

 

Across the car park where the burned down clocktower

Once commanded imperious sprawling Co-op City,

A pigeon plops a pat of its philosophy on the hubris of a Porsche,

Then flaps a desultory wing over the vape shop

Curving away towards the pole-priapic gentlemen’s lounge.

 

Eggs and bacon blend with the Chinese herbalist’s mysteries

On the raw breeze,

Whilst vagabonds of scant repair

Hustle in and out of Wilkos

To spruce and polish winter away

With all the sad dust of those they lost in the dark.

 

 

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Stephen Linstead
Picture Nick Victor

 

 

 

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