Earl of Lonsdale Pub | Poetry Out West

Finding feeling

My way under

Grounded

Red Double D’s

Facing forward – heading toward

Portobello Road

Where I think I’ll find a vintage coat?

Navigating steps, a labyrinth of

Shops

stalls

markets

and food

Except for the rude

Middle eastern Joseph I turned my back on

Walking first left then right

Following the sunshine – the Bello

Hot and cold, on standby

Off with his head!

The woolley cardigan I borrowed

Along with my confusing glasses

The ill-fitting jeans

Crazy, uncomfortable

Wishing I didn’t have big bloody blisters!

Very far from home; my bed covers pulled

The fan on full

Stumbling into the Earl of Lonsdale

Pub for a cider

Hiding in a corner ‘snug’

Made in the seventeen hundreds and

It seems fitting I would have to bend

Dwarves and buxom barmaids

Tourists and stranger’s alike

Peer out from under mead

Sly Lord’s eyed

I, need to gather my thoughts

Consider what it would mean to start

over

Poetry Out West