The Ghost of Old Swansea Town

The Ghost of Old Swansea Town

I am the ghost of Old Swansea Town

I sweep through the streets when the shutters are down

Once I roamed freely where shoppers did throng

Now poundshops abound and push me along

I waltz around bins, "planned" obstacle tracks,

Urine streaked doorways and the vomit of Jacks

Poverty despatches what the Luftwaffe missed

Whilst down in old Wind Street the poor get . . . drunk

I hear "Swansea's not affected by out of town stores!"

As another old shop shuts its closing down doors

But "Ambition is Critical" the council decreed.

Their words, a target, where many have peed.

"We'll build wider roads for buses all bendy"

So more see a town with less shops than Hendy.

By an irrationalised bank a dog makes deposit or two

Whilst his master Ten Earrings screams "Big Issue!" "Big Issue!"

Down on the beaches sand's not shifted — it's gone

To snapdragon dredgers for, let's say a song

As I rush through the corridors of the people in power

I hear them "all talk" of the lure of Gower

But the heartbeat that made the peninsula proud

Still beats, but beats not nearly so loud.

Empty tall-windowed chapels look down with dark gloom

As an assembly of asses blow "breathe life in the tomb.

We made them a city, it gave them a lift

Now make mine a Pimms, but best make it swift,

I'm on the next train so pour with great haste,

Enough of this place! I've no time to waste".

In a make believe parliament on a make believe bay

There's hardly a barrage of questions to sway

So it's decided:

"Landscape that moonscape that once made us rich,

If any complain say "Life's a bitch!"

Six feet of topsoil to disguise and to crown

Whatever is left of Old Swansea Town."

Innocent Bystander

Swansea Writers' Circle