How You Keep Your Ruins
¶ 1
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The arboretum’s real;
I told you at the time.
We never get the people through
the checkpoints and the river police;
I told you at the time.
¶ 2
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The inland lakes are real;
I told you at the time.
A garden by John Tradescant,
bunkers and a driving range:
helmets are advised.
¶ 3
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The rolling pasture’s real;
I told you at the time.
Beware the fence’s electric bite
and a lady popping out ‘Just to say,
don’t sit on my stile.’
Don’t sit on, don’t sit on,
don’t sit on my stile.
¶ 4
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The offshore island’s real;
I told you at the time.
Someone bought the mooring rights,
the woodlands and the wildlife,
and the abbot’s given in.
The Duchy gave him a pickle shop
with shares in the labelling;
That’s how you keep your ruins.
¶ 5
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The inner courtyard’s real;
I told you at the time.
Through the doors and down the stairs,
an eye scan at the porter’s lodge,
passport and a vial of blood
and don’t exceed your time.
Don’t exceed, don’t exceed,
don’t exceed your time.
¶ 6
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The legends’ lounge is real;
I told you at the time.
Pictures of his stylish passes,
the Brylcreem boy from Hackney marshes;
his legacy’s alive
for gold members and debentures,
Chelsea bankers and corporate sponsors;
his legacy survives –
his legacy and its industry;
his legacy’s alive.
¶ 7
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Read the book by Martin Plumb
with photographs by Ken Coton
and a poem by Crispin Thomas.
The club won’t sell it in their shop
as ‘authors trespass on our heritage stock
for supporters on a private plot –
their revenue is ours .’
Great verse….says it all Alex C