the biggest failure on the high st since Woolworths.
88 years of underwiring, chandelier water sports,
grief-deep hearts and picnic wicker that shouts
Are You Being Served? a gloom that seeps
into the psychedelic fabric of the counterpanes,

administration, administration, administration.
the final nail and british homes all left bereft of 
Roses, the owl-shaped butter dish, towels that tower 
in spires of dry infants, the white embrace of advert-fresh
caucasions, jaunty bubbles and nose-pink skin.

depressing coffee and pain au... no, depressing 
pensioners in tans and beige, staring out at the cold 
playground, listening to the sound of sore replicants oh,
no hope for this store, the passing of time, the carpets
worn to nil- the shining desperation of a carriage clock.