A trip to Town.

 
I took the panther black automobile and myself to town,
I glided into a parking space by Broad street
and walked to an Ikon of an art gallery.
 
One of the exhibits, shot from a car with the windscreen on,
of a modern urban landscape on a wet cold night,
the screen below was like the BBC on an afternoon in 1950,
a fuzzy snowstorm.
 
The sky outside was expectant grey and we wait for the whiteness to cover the road works.
 
There where some paintings of crows above the door to the gallery bookshop
and I bought five art, birthday cards.

Two of the handsome visitors looked as if they didn't shop for clothes at M. and S.
 
I didn't go to the tearooms as they took twenty minutes to serve lukewarm coffee,
the last time I was there
and went to a cafe round the corner.
I had sweet hot coffee and a cold croissant, with butter from the fridge.
 
The man taking my money looked like Damon Albarn from the band Blur.
 
On taking the car home I got lost in the road works,
but made it eventually, I sit here waiting for the snow.

 
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