Ghost Town Blues by Phil Barling

 

A one-way street
Down - town
In empty shops, redundant mannequins
As naked as the day they were forlorn
Plead porcelain mercy
In the green hills beyond the empty bus routes
The sound of pylons, rattling like bones of despair
Whistling their eerie tune, disturbing the air
Inside the Nag’s Head
Phantoms of Thursday night quizzers
Perplexed and perspexed have but one question
With no answers
An upstairs room of local poets
Are frozen in rhyme
And the dance floor is bare, no band, no dance no dancers

And here comes the Train, on time, with its cargo of fear
Its passengers cross-legged avoiding the toilet, the beer
For the full bladder journey
As the ticket Spectre wears a mask with a hand knitted smile
So everyone laughs as he helpfully says
“Sorry, no returns, we’re only going one way”
The Metro has only one page
There is only one news
It’s in your head, it’s in your shoes
Like a tea that stews, it’s a painful brews
It’s a poem that struggles for the right words to use
It’s a spook, it’s a spirit
It’s the ghost town blues
 

Comments   

0 #4 Dave B 2021-07-11 07:40
'cargo of fear'...says it all
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0 #3 Lynn 2021-07-11 07:01
Absolutely loved this. I had the strangest ghost experience stood in the doorway of what used to be Durty Nellies when I was waiting for a friend.
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0 #2 dave morgan 2021-07-06 10:30
Ever thought of working for Bolton's marketing department Phil? Excellent.
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0 #1 Gina 2021-07-05 16:51
Phil, I did enjoy this. You say it so well, with your unique choice of words, describing scenes we all recognise.
Gina x
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