Across the square, under the old Market Cross
Among white lines, yesterday reserved for the cars
An encampment of trucks and white vans
Stalls under their candy-stripe awnings
Channelling raindrops into small streams
Dripping off corners into baskets and trolleys
Shouting and calling, touting and yelling
Today’s bargains, special offers
Everything fresh from the farm
From Cox’s in boxes, bananas in bunches,
Grapes, tomatoes and pears
Eggs, bacon and ham
Puddings, pies and pasties
Sauces, pickles and jam
Milk, cheeses and honey
Flowers, veggies and fruit
Everything’s there if you’ve got money
Oily, scaly wet fish, fresh from the seas
Sharp fins, bright eyes and mouths open
All good at this price
Glittering, silver darlings
Fanned out on piles of crushed ice
Men’s outsizes, ladies’ lingerie, hats, bras, knickers
and socks
Hoover bags, replacement parts, watches, batteries and
clocks
Stall-holders sipping extra-sweet tea
Hugging the mugs for their warmth
Take-away bacon rolls cooling on the side
While change is quickly given
Incessant banter for the punters
A thriving cash economy
Among the roving bargain-hunters.
Hours later, the camp dismantled, the rubbish, the mess
and the muck,
Brushes and brooms in the rain, and men with the
garbage-truck
The wind whips round the deserted space
Whilst, inside, in the pub and the café
Time to watch someone else working
And for some hot food and a drink
A chance at last to get warm
A space to reflect and to think
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012
No comments:
Post a Comment