Saturday, 18 May 2013

It Rained in Edinburgh. Surprise!

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I resent paying to pee,

copious amounts of coffee cost me

another 20 pence.

The rain could drown goldfish today

but you continue to hand out

cans of Rubicon juice.

My journey home appreciated this.

Stag-do spirits were not dampened by your Scottish weather,

they belt out I Want to Break Free

delightfully off-key whilst handcuffed together.

How apt.

Thank you for the suitable writing spot,

a place where candles hang

with basket fixtures.

Your vase of sunflowers stare at me,

the felt centres creep me out.

It was a canny cuppa

for a Geordie writer.

A gaggle of grannies are stuck

in John Lewis’ not-so-revolving doors.

We grumble in chorus

about frizzy hair.

I disappoint drunken Dundee fans

drowning their sorrows.

I have not been on Geordie shore.

‘Let down’ they say.

Mother and son blow airmail kisses to father,

tears in their eyes.

An army of drunken middle-aged women descend

and clear coach E.

Ta for the rainy day Edinburgh.
Location: Edinburgh, City of Edinburgh, UK

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