A short back and sides for loose change.
Simple enough, square turfs for games.
An unfurnished corner shop selling simple meals.
Vintage pub rooms turned apartments, the run of the mill.
Gelled heads swagger anger around the blocks.
Discount stores up the price of their stock.
A dog’s droppings keep the commuters on guard.
The local road death Mafia skid cars.
Safely away, media and city types play.
Moulding cash to six packs and pint glasses like clay.
Baggy jeans and bikes switch to suits and foot
when the weekend’s gone and freedom gets the boot.
Flyers pasted over scribbles and stains
name club nights the council will close with blame.
Across the market sits riverside retreats.
Waves crash into the heated garden’s beat.