A day at
the beach
Where are all
the deckchairs for a shilling?
lines of
striped relaxation
away from
the factory line
the damp of
the town
sitting
on a rainbow
instead of
grime
Where are
the shoulder monkeys?
sharp teeth
above and beneath
smile for the
birdy
‘five bob
please’
and the Punch
and Judy
that
policeman
the ghost
and the stick beaten baby
and the
hurdy-gurdy
the swing
boats
the
sandcastles
the pots of
tea on trays
sandy egg
sandwiches
the nearly
sunny days
skirts
tucked into knickers
jump over the waves
the
flannels and blazers
the heads
in the newspaper lazers
the cricket
bats
the film
star sunglasses
grans in their
best hats
knitted
trunks round our arses
the
headscarves and pearls
and see-through
plastic sandals
the lumps
of tar
old towels
to surround us
the
jellyfish
the
starfish
tiny fish caught
in a jar
the new-born
babies
in pram
shade oases
a cousin’s
appendix scar
the betting
slips
the quick
dips
the coldest
of seas
‘full of
disease’
our nan
said
and the
donkeys
slowly
padding along the beach
over and
over
Doris and Clover
with
hanging sad heads
and a sweet
stick of rock
then home
in the car
a push to
get it going required
but back by
ten o’clock
with the salt
sweet seaweed air
and up at
crack of dawn start
we came
back tired
sand in our
hair
from our
day at the beach.
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