This is what we’re made of. This is who we are - 1

Small Town

Cake

In the small town, shops sit squat along the main street.

Bastard unions that the city wouldn’t allow.

Ironmongers and sandwich service

Toyshop and dry cleaners

Picture framers and funeral parlour -

A mixing of commercial genes,

Hybrid vigour,

Hunkering up against the cold.

The Christmas lights glare blue

And the gutters are plastic-bag-beautiful.

In the café, the menu sticks to my hand,

The cake to my gullet.

Comic Sans posters promise extended opening hours –

‘Late night opening till 7.

Shop till You drop.’

Mistletoe

The mistletoe festival has run out of mistletoe

And the bid to beat the world kissing record

Looks unlikely – strong on ambition, short on participants

As two middle-aged couples kiss awkwardly in the rain.

The procession up to the church is churlish and grim

Past the Cats’ Protection League

The Spar and the precarious posh nosh place,

Pagan play-acting with the Queen of the Mistletoe

All medieval dress and Adidas trainers. 

A wet sprig of plant an ineffective umbrella

Against the rain that would be snow

If only it could get its act together.

And I, the tourist, wonder whether pretend sacrifice

Made to foliate faces, masks actual.

Small towns do what they must to survive.

Small ads

When the rain stops, the Town Hosts are back on patrol,

High-vis jackets shouting “welcome, and ask us anything!”

I’m more interested in the town ghost walking beside them,

Indistinct, wispy, angry at being overlooked.

I walk past the Town Hosts and through the town ghost,

Hoping it accepts my shiver in the manner I intended -

A compliment to its un-showy persistence.

Loyal (past corporeal mass, past anyone’s memory of who it ever was)

To the bones of this place.

In the post-office window, the small-ads expose the town’s soul:

Ancient Songs – singing workshop for All Voices

Wreath-making for three weeks only – working with foliage and small machinery

Ferreting (permission to catch rabbits wanted). Local lad

Elderly lady would like to meet gentleman or lady for company.  Tea and chat only

Wednesday’s-Fortnightly – Compassion, Coffee and Cake.