What a mess!
We stare at the shitter:
It's pong-hole agape.
This pleasure-dome
of abandonment,
sings money,
(elsewhere).
sings repair,
(costly).
But we have to dodge
the dog shit
and
Ignore the prostitutes,
as we wend a path
through hurtful
remarks: and stupid
assumptions.
So- poetic prostitutes
while they laugh
about the poor,
show their
cunts to tourists.
@Bond What has this poem got to do with you? Perhaps your rage is misplaced, perhaps you suffer from egotistical grandeur, perhaps I suffer from couldn't giva- a- shititis.
Rachel Bond
Sat 3rd Jul 2010 16:00
yeh get a load of mine. i make £100s off american and japanese tourists outside the bingo on the high street...i get extras for reading my shallow pond life poetry...oh if these comments werent about me then why dont you make your criticisms in person to those who annoy you instead in a direct and honest manner. its uninspiring to read so called poetry and comments that are just a dig at other people. yes, very deep kealan.
<Deleted User> (8243)
Tue 25th May 2010 20:37
I am pretty ignorant when it comes to London geography as I am a half hearted militant Scot who rarely ventures south of the wall. It is a very hard hitting piece and created strong image of the area. If I ever find myself in Kensington I will take a print out of this poem instead of a map.
Hi Tommy
As you know I lived on the patch for 24 years and yes the girls on the game are part of the reality. But tourists? What part do you live in, I never saw any. Maybe it's poetic licence in what is a powerful poem.
There's another side to Kensington - positive stuff happening. It's a right old mix
Last stanza is brilliant, some people really do whore themselves ot to stereotype. I dont know how many times i read a cliche love poem and thought "what a genre slut". They think 'deep' can be found in a pond. Good piece.
If you wish to post a comment you must login.
This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
Rachel Bond
Tue 6th Jul 2010 02:03
this poem has nowt to do with me. i was making point that itd be better if you would criticise poets directly or any poet could take offence. but like you i couldnt give flying fuck so we do have that in common at least. i have egotistical splendour a much more pleasant condition in which i so rudely believe that i may comment on this site wherver i like.grandeur may affect a man to think his work is above reproach or criticism...i say bring it on bitch you and all your kensington hard men...or you could explain your contraversially interesting poem instead