NaPoWriMo

Again I'm writing a poem a day throughout April. See Carrie Etter's list of participants here, and the threads here. My effort for today:

One last big tea before I leave the county

Eeh, a great oblong table

laden wi’ riches of Yorkshire and trouble

consequent on there being fuck all to do:

a truculent welcome for me and for you,

southerner sandwiches, call-centre pies,

liquorice shadows in factories of flies,

flat caps and trackies and dole queues and gyms,

non-NHS dentists coining by gums,

fenceposts and fishing and regeneration

re-opening the derelict pub at the station,

rugby bloody league with Harry bloody Gration,

moorlands as barren and gaping as gobs

of tweed-burdened burghers and shell-suited knobs,

teacakes moistened on top of the kettle,

and gift shops closed down in the centre of Settle,

Doncaster’s regal and drunken flaneurs

and Bradford pornographers’ ‘Story of Er’

and parkin and parking for five quid a day

and Parkinson threatening to come back from Bray.

Pillocks and wazzocks and breadcakes and rain

and Tina and Gilbert and Ajmal and Shane,

O give me a bite of your county of scran

and tea from the well-stewed teapot of Don –

I have lived here a decade, complacent and fat,

so goodbye and thank you, and thank you, and that.