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terry-collettPoems
Ingrid stands this evening of coldness her small hands in pockets of her coat I inside Old Neptune's fried fish shop getting 2 bags of chips 6d each is that all? the man asks yes that's all unless you have any free crackling not tonight he tells me I go out with my chips the bags warm in my hands here you are here's your chips I tell her taking hands out of her blue rain coat she takes hold of her bag nice and warm she mutters embracing the chip bag we stand there ********* the hot chips into mouths fanning our mouths with hands to cool down the hot chips buses pass on the road big red things with people gazing out we walk up the pavement eating chips with fingers to the new ABC cinema and gaze at the billboards photographs of film stars I could be a film star too one day Ingrid says her fingers half way out of her mouth mild buck teeth wild brown hair and brown eyes sure you could I tell her a film star an actress in big films she dreams on I eat chips the warmness swallowing down my throat bright dresses and red shoes she goes on maybe kid I tell her you'll be that but just now you're a girl eating chips 9 years old just like me full of dreams full of hopes yes guess so she mutters walking back pass the shops the bright lights from windows buses pass big and red she dreams of big film parts nice dresses those red shoes I think of the Wild West wild saloons big shoot outs with bad guys guns smoking Dodge City red eye drinks and sweet smokes we walk home down the dark Meadow Row our chips gone fingers warm but greasy mine clutching a silver six shooter at my side she licking her fingers one by one another night going home after chips having fun.
0
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
EVENING WITHOUT STARS.
Ingrid stands this evening of coldness her small hands in pockets of her coat I inside Old Neptune's fried fish shop getting 2 bags of chips 6d each is that all? the man asks yes that's all unless you have any free crackling not tonight he tells me I go out with my chips the bags warm in my hands here you are here's your chips I tell her taking hands out of her blue rain coat she takes hold of her bag nice and warm she mutters embracing the chip bag we stand there ********* the hot chips into mouths fanning our mouths with hands to cool down the hot chips buses pass on the road big red things with people gazing out we walk up the pavement eating chips with fingers to the new ABC cinema and gaze at the billboards photographs of film stars I could be a film star too one day Ingrid says her fingers half way out of her mouth mild buck teeth wild brown hair and brown eyes sure you could I tell her a film star an actress in big films she dreams on I eat chips the warmness swallowing down my throat bright dresses and red shoes she goes on maybe kid I tell her you'll be that but just now you're a girl eating chips 9 years old just like me full of dreams full of hopes yes guess so she mutters walking back pass the shops the bright lights from windows buses pass big and red she dreams of big film parts nice dresses those red shoes I think of the Wild West wild saloons big shoot outs with bad guys guns smoking Dodge City red eye drinks and sweet smokes we walk home down the dark Meadow Row our chips gone fingers warm but greasy mine clutching a silver six shooter at my side she licking her fingers one by one another night going home after chips having fun.
A BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
terry-collett
Written by
terry-collett
English
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
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