Sunday, February 27, 2011

I have a small and respectful umbrella

I have a small and respectful umbrella;
a 1 pound,
children's
'bought in Battersea in a charity shop when it was
raining' umbrella,
a modest affair,
not like your banker's bank umbrellas taking over
HALF THE STREET,
not like those,
no not like those.
Not like the Barclays Corporate patio umbrellas
that pointy-shoed City boys wear
to detract from the fact that they've
got one in the first place,
Not like the oversized Radley ones
sported by Elizabeth Arden commuters,
to match their Radley bag,
Radley purse,
Radley fucking pantyliners,
no not like those.
Rain at 8.45am in the City is a minefield;
dodging spokes at every step;
walking the tightrope curb,
watch your side for Boris bikes
and MIND THE BROLLIES:
duck under the Deloitte,
rise over the Radisson Edwardian,
the corporate umbrellas sneering at my
children's charity special.
I'm not on a brolly power trip,
it's functional, not weaponry,
I have a small and respectful umbrella:
your pub garden capitalist brolly ain't got nothin' on me.

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