dash

Heading Back

Here you are: bus queue, Co-op carrier
creasing your hands, Mr Tattoo in front
gleaming with all-day sweat, outside Cash Advances, Loans,
Cheques Cashed (No Questions), next to
Lucky-7 Amusements, down from
PriceBuster, bills and pizza flyers piling up
behind bankrupt glass, across the street
Paddy Power Bookmakers, and two ĎTo Letí;

frozen prawns leaking sea-smell on a sliced loaf,
cut-price tomatoes squashing to pulp,
your pass stuck under the bills you meant to pay
but didnít, Pensioner mugged for 50p
as the evening headline.  Hoping for a seat,
not much to ask, not too much.

D. A. Prince

If you have any comments on this poem,  D. A. Prince would be pleased to hear from you.

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