Regeneration – poem


The golden sun glistened above the dilapidated ruins that were once humans’ homes

Shadows grow as the fiery planet slowly climbs To the top of the world

Radiating a spot Where Mr Rolls once lived

Cries of children’s laughter Echo around the building site

Entrancing the wolf that whistles,bares its bum

But rarely bites

A white cooker stands high and alone

On a drumlin of sand soil and societal sediment

Once the fabric of people’s lives

Green curtains are half drawn in the glassless window of a second floor flat

And above The chaos of twisted steel

Concrete boulders

A yellow workman’s hat

Diggers dig and cranes roar

In an attempt to bring the community to the floor

Brick by brick and stone by stone

Pull old buildings down

Build new homes

This is how regeneration begins

People lose

Contractors win

The chaotic destruction of whole communities

All in line with

Government policy

Architecturally brainwashing

Generation after generation

Barbed wire fences and floating dust

Large cranes and plant covered in rust

Builders and joiners from out of town

Tear our houses shops and boozers down

But order must be carried out to the letter

Please the bosses and make things better

And when they have finished their rebuilding

Ex-homeless people begin to move in

They’re impressed for a month or two

Then realise that the plastic glue hardboard and formica

That holds this fragile box together

Is just like Princess who scissoredthe ribbon

On the outside pristine

And on the inside a midden

First they find large black cockroaches

Second big black rats

These house are built on flats

That were built on top of houses

That were built on a bog

Soon the houses begin to bend and bob from side to side

Cracks appear and whole streets slide

Then a rat like councillor decides

This crime ridden area of dilapidation is in serious need of regeneration

‘Let’s build things up and make things fine With a grant from sexy Heseltine’

£500 million already spent

And £44.90 collected in rent

Rebuilding doesn’t make problems go away

It just creates new dumping grounds

For the poor the black the Irish and the gay.


One thought on “Regeneration – poem

  1. A fine and timely delineation of the Praxis of wherelessness and wheretobe . Spender and Larkin resurface. A chilling account of the surface and the hollowness underneath. Look forward to more such revelations. Kudos.

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