CITY AT THE END OF THE THAMES

Ghosts of beano revellers ride waltzers,
Howling as they wave their kiss me quick hats,
Drunk on Essex bought milk and alcohol,
They rave towards new end of the pier show,
In latest brightly lit city of dreams,
Built on whelks, cockles, mussels, jellied eels,
Candy floss, ice cream, pink peppermint rock.
Wraith like charabancs queue at the Kursaal
To ferry the hoards of cockney spectres
In and out of phantasia on sea,
To and from the greatest pubs of London.
Equality now achieved with Clacton,
The feel good factor rolled out so quickly,
After murder of MP in Southend.

Harry Rogers In The Red Bedroom, 20th October 2021.

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