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Local Poetry

The Café Life  By John Jarvis

The journey began as early as '61;
Pre-Beatles and very much Trad Dad.
But Dad didn't come:
Just a sister and me

Travelled the arcades
And listened to the Wiganese.
The chatter and the clank
Of a mug of tay…

As they'd invariably say.
A very large mug of tay,
Served in some small café.
And probably served with a pie.

And when it rained
The windows of the Buttery
Would steam up, like some
Steak Pudding oozing with gravy.

The gravy of life:
The café life…

Downstairs, in British Home Stores:

All plastic tables
And cold iron rails;
And chips and peas
And queues
Well into the lingerie.

Shared dinners were the norm
In those three'penny bit days;
But we enjoyed the bus ride home
With our new pencils
And exercise books,
Which brings me next to Woolworths:

Another fine place
With large mugs of tay…
But that's another story
For another day…