Untitled (ode to delis)

Once, Brockley Central was accused by one Lewisham blogger of getting above its station by adopting the 'royal we'. We risk enraging her still further by hoping to create the position of Brockley Central's poet laureate.

But sometimes, a post is so good that it deserves a thread all of its own. At 1.30am last night, an anonymous poet - our own Wilfred Owen - sent this poem from the front line of the Great Gentrification War:

Surely the happy clappy
Fecund families
In the bosom of their brood

Would not begrudge
Continental comestibles
For the sad singletons
Of the neighbourhood.

A little respite, a little joy
For those who have no girl or boy.
Why resent money spent
On continental fripperies

Cheese and wine and vol-e-ventes
and multi-berried muselies.

In the end what they spend
is no reflection
on the wholesome two point twosome who fill their
trolleys across Lewisham.

With family fodder piled up high. They brave the
To stock the larder.

Glance at the fuel, let out a sigh. To pay the price
means to work harder.

To face the race to make a life
do you need a husband or wife?

It certainly ain't the only way.
Being on your tod can also pay.

Great economies are often possible
and surplus income quite disposable.

What if I spend it in a deli
On frenchie cheese or fancy jam? It's my lolly, I
earned it
And I really, don't give a damn.


We hope this anonymous artist posts again.