And still on the theme of shopping, it is upsetting to see so many stores going to the wall these days, some through the negligence of greedy owners though it will all be blamed on Covid 19 and they will undoubtedly move on with their money intact whilst thousands of their employees face a grim Christmas to come. In a truly robust economy, in a society that had the wellbeing of its people at the core instead of the wealth of just a few, Covid 19 would not have wrought the economic damage it has and still will.
I can only echo Shelley's Masque of Anarchy from within my Covid mask.
But there is one store I always associated with childhood Christmases, toys, sweeties and more. It was always lit up and Christmas, shelves full of everything under the sun, dreaming of white and having a merry time. I remember the smell of the wooden floors and the pick&mix. Unfortunately it went bust about a decade ago and for similar reasons. We all loved it, we all needed it and I for one miss:
The Wonderful World of Woolworth
by Oonah V Joslin
We never went out without going in.
Aisles walked more religiously than church,
it was another place
to ‘not show mother up.’
Good girls got sweets.
Miss I Want, got a smack.
Once I got lost and cried.
Bobby socks for school,
pencils, colouring books,
a plastic ‘Chad Valley’ Bassett Hound that squeaked…
I bought one final thing there
just the other week
Prince Caspian. And now I can never go back.
We always got what we wanted there
a walk round Woolies
which in its day, was mammoth.
My second poem today was also published in The Pygmy Giant in 2009. This slide into economic oblivion has as you see been happening for a long time. Money remember is but a promisary note -- and when people at the top are liars, it's a false promise!
Going with the Flow
I think you can bank on getting weird stuff
about banks going bankrupt and times getting rough
in the overall market, an underground stream
of nothing financial being quite what it seemed,
sluggishly flowing, grinding to a halt;
the little man suffers though it’s not his fault
and the rivers of mammon are all running dry
but still people follow without asking why,
dependent as sheep on a landslide they stand
with despair in the heart and a lie in their hand.
TPG 2008
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