Posted 01.09.11 in Writing
There is nothing Great about Yarmouth
where The Empire’s best is a briny comic
and silvered palmists tell of future harms
or flog tin charms from crumpled crimson booths.
a child gives a mole a mortal TWACK!
and tired neon lights begin to blink.
Oiled paper blows like tumbleweed
behind the peeling whitewashed greyhound track.
Arcades where wooden figures have no face
to see the gawping waxwork’s grim grimace
at years of chips which make the pavements mulch
and pubs for pishy beer before the race.
Postcard features the first Heinz product developed specifically for the UK market!
Clare Pollard says: This is a superb piece of work. I enjoyed Faye’s sharp eye and deadpan voice, which is there from the first, funny line. The idea of Great Yarmouth as a ‘briny comic’ is genius – it’s lurid, childish, damaged and salty. This poem is a masterclass in brevity – take ‘silvered palmists’, which is such a clever way of saying ‘palmists who have been given silver’, refreshing and compressing the image by turning the noun into a verb. I also love the ‘TWACK!’ and the ‘grim grimace’ and the ‘pishy beer’. Love of language is apparent in every line of this very smart poem.
This poem was written as part of the poem postcard exchange, see the original challenge!
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