Memories of Margaret

Drizzle at the bus stop

Agro from a man in a cap
Pink trainers brush past

snickering

Major savings at the office furniture warehouse
A bike locked in a pool of amber
Its white helmet bobs along Homebase's brick shadow

Across the road, small Rooneys mull over

3D collectors’ cards

News agent’s giving me grief

over Walkers crisps and a posh voice

‘Nah, daylight’s been privatised since Thatcher mate.

Dontchoo know that?

S’pose your mum and dad voted for ‘er.

Init?’

The sign is neon but the step is stone

Dark, lopsided, abrased

I promise myself, this is the last time

I ever come back.