The Shop That Isn't There

‘Next to my barber’s, was there a matchbox seller’s?’

‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘That was the tripe-dresser’s.

The other side sold extreme umbrellas,

Two doors down from the laundry-presser’s.’

‘But wasn’t my short-back-and-sider’s once there,

Amongst that row that has been pulled down?’

‘Not quite,’ she said. ‘It was ladies underwear –

This barber’s of yours was in another town.

Remember where you bought the sugar cutters?

That roof’s come down, the shop’s in wrecks.

Superstore now, once a fruit and nutter’s,

Whilst ladies’ and gents’ turned to unisex.’

So I won’t worry over what’s lost and gone

When I’m not sure what was there on day one.

Stuart Larner

previously published on Every Day Poets