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Card from the Coffee Republic
The city council strung their logo up in lights.
Season’s Greetings hang above the road.
I sit at the Republic, raise a cup to friends,
watch little donkeys heave their heavy load.
Wrestling the cutting edge of plastic bags
mothers carry goods for all their sons.
The shining ones are hiding out in posh hotels.
A scene that’s much the same as Betjeman’s.
Victoria is set in bronze and not amused,
unflattered by a wall of Cola lights.
Market stalls are choking her with trinketry,
a carousel rides horses through her nights.
I sit al-freezin’-fresco here, outside the cafe,
from sticky buns scrape off an icing’s sheen,
numbly watch the shoppers shop until they drop,
a merry go, go round; a city scene.
Julie Boden
(From the collection, Cut on the Bias)
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