Death of the High Street

Death of the High Street

The toppled torso
tired and torn
lay in the Church Street window
Snapshot of fallen glory
now in tired languor
seeking to hide from view
attempting to forget its past 
Once peacock proud
And prettified
full-fashioned
Embellished and brocaded
Bedecked in yesterday’s mode
Reduced now to a fallen dusted death
Memento Mori
Of yet another High Street death

DALI IN LONDON

DALI  IN  LONDON

I saw on the London South Bank
This statue and to be quite frank,
I thought it bizarre,
Something from a bazaar;
Surely this is the work of a crank?

I was told I had Dali to thank
Surely a bit of a prank?
This mammoth in metal
My sight did unsettle –
Where taste goes I’m thick as a plank.

However that soon was outdone
By a dripping watch out in the sun;
Called ‘Nobility Of Time’,
Which hardly did chime
With Big Ben, England’s favourite son.

But then on this old riverbank
Another sight this did outflank,
A torso was carved
In two it was halved.
From exploring further I shrank.

Now I know you’re a self-publicist
And your paintings I love them to bits.
Senor  Dali, please choose;
You’ve nothing to lose
If you want to stay off my blacklist.

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Photographs, apart from the top one of Dali himself, and the one of the clock, were taken by me in 2002.  The Exhibition of Dali’s work, previously housed in the old London County Hall, is now closed and the exhibits, one of the most extensive collections of Dali’s work in different media, are currently, I understand, awaiting a new venue.