241 – Stoke

Poem number 241
I travelled once to Stoke On Trent
A cheesey oatcake my intent
I bought it, then I turned and went
I saw no need to stay.
I sensed a menace in the air
Decaying buildings everywhere
And then! A shopping centre there
White marble in the grey.
I drove away, the pedal down
Relieved to leave that hybrid town
That psychopath beneath the clown
And fight another day.
Of course I could be very wrong
And Stoke may be as wine and song
I wasn’t there for very long
So who am I to say?
But still, my heart grows heavy when
I think of going there again
I’ll leave that risk to other men
And simply stay away.

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