Back home for a few days.
Going for a beer.
The pub we started our pub crawls in is now flats.
The bar we met in is now a nursery.
The place we went for our first date is too.
Whole town gave up the booze.
Started making babies.
Cut out the middle part.
Must be something in the water.
So I bought a carry-out.
Found a seat.
Police moved me on.
No outdoor drinking.
Old neighbour recognised me at the bus stop.
Shook my hand.
“You look exactly the same.
Just fatter.
Much fatter.”
“Thanks, ya arsehole,” I smiled.
“You too.”
What can you do.
Hometown blues.
(C) Paul Andrew Sneddon
