It’s not there anymore,
I say, looking
out of the bus window,
The passenger
next to me
Is probably
puzzled by this remark,
But it was
there then,
Until they
brought in the bulldozers
Levelled it,
erected wooden fences around
Where it was.
Then they painted the fences with
Multi-coloured cartoons of smiley people
And slogans about ‘the community’.
Nobody asked
us.
It was just
done as planned.
Brick boxes
will be piled up into a block,
As an
architect living elsewhere
Plays with
our manor,
With as much
regard as a giant toddler
Stacking up
wooden toys.
But is that
bad?
There will
be new places
For people
to live.
How beneficent
of our elected councillors
To do this,
and hand
An opportunity
for profit
To a
landlord
Whilst their
other hand is extended
Palm upwards
To be
crossed by silver.
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