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.
previously published on Every Day Poets