NaPoWriMo 5/4/16: Ashford in November

It’s our town now. In the face of a wet wind

We tack from lighted shop to lighted shop

Or sit and smoke, staring from burger bars.

Our tea’s too hot; it’s steaming up the windows,

Our shopping bags are stashed beneath the tables

And it’s our town now.

 

It’s our town now. In the Municipal Park

Only the man with the overcoat remains.

This is where it rains, this is somewhere trains

Shoot through, and rubbish skips round corners;

This is where we wonder

Whether to queue for the Post Office now or later.

And it’s our town now.

 

It’s our town now. It’s not LA or London,

It’s not a tourist attraction

And it’s not where we would have wanted once to be;

But it is where We are We

And it’s our town now.

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