Friday, 19 April 2013

(Day 19) Leaving Blackpool

Leaving Blackpool
All we could remember
Was the wind
Spitting in our face
To take it with us
Like a begging child.

Rarely the high street
With the shops swinging shut
Like ghosts
And the North Pier’s gates
In the wind
Despite the effort
Of the workmen.

Rarely the trams
Slipping on the tracks
And cars constantly
Doing at least 50
In a 30 mile zone.

Rarely the hotel
Which looked like the great wall
Of China
But had cracks in
The window,

Out of date wallpaper

And a cruise singer
That would have been
Too cheesy for Phoenix nights.

All we could remember
Was the half built Sainsburys
Outside the station
Lingering sketeal
Outside the station
Like  a pack of cards
Half built into a house

But always

Always the wind
Wrestling for your attention
Reeking of dropped suncream

Over the horizon of a child’s hair
Which for a moment
Looks like seagull crap
Black on the moon’s face. 

(Day 19 I was still away on. This is reflections upon leaving Blackpool. I didn't see
the prompt that day)

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