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Poem

The smell of musty damp clothing 
held together by the touch of cheap thread.
And rough dogs bred for rabbiting
kept pots filled with law-abiding stew

When rickets craved a bone to bend
and polio bought another set of braces.
To those halcyon times of blinding fog, 
lined with lung-enthusing crystalline particles 

And when imbibing tap water came with
the added thrill of swimming microbes,
sharing their raging fevers that made
housing booms an unrequired dream

When to walk the alley ways of dog
defecation, showed off the slums at their
best, with gin drinking mothers taking a 
daily bashing from even drunker husbands


And children born as part of a fecundity
regime, a numbers game of survival
of the fittest, only recognised as an
individual when past the age of most risk

When losing brothers and sister's along 
the way, was barely remembered and 
hardly ever affordably mourned. Like a 
whisper barely heard or purposefully ignored

Yes, those were the days. Remembered 
with sepia fondness and still framed 
photos. Of few bleeding hearts and even
fewer charitable acts. Thinking Back is all

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