Ode to the parking problems

HEREWITH a poem that I hope you might consider for publication, perhaps as a replacement for "A boy named Chickie"?

Decline and Fall

Back in the sixties and seventies

When the motor car first became king

Our councillors, in their great wisdom,

Decided the very best thing

Was to bulldoze flat the town centre;

So without too much thinking at all,

They destroyed half the best bits of

And that was the start of the fall.

They replaced Ann Street with a car park,

Of concrete, and steel and brick

Devoid of all style and merit

But they thought it would be cheap and

quick.

They used parking for years as an "income"

Buried their heads in the sand

Whilst anything "new" or "exciting"

Might just as well have been banned.

They spent not a penny on maintenance

So the car-parks were soon in a state

Whilst in no time, the much-vaunted

Guildbourne

Looked at least twenty years out of date.

At last, when they ran out of options

And the concrete was crumbling and drear,

Some daft idiot from the Lib-Dems

Cried "I've got a brilliant idea."

"We'll sell the whole town down the river

We'll give NCP a quick ring

They'll be delighted to take it all on

And we won't have to do a darn thing.

Don't worry too much about contracts

As beggars we've no right to choose,

We're sure we can trust National Car Parks

And we've really not got much to lose."

They sloped into town as wolves to the fold,

A parasite army in blue

And every shopkeeper with half of a brain

thought

"I'd say that's our lot, wouldn't you?"

They spread through the streets like a fast-

rising flood

Things really could not get much worse

They gave not a jot for the halt or the lame,

Provided they'd emptied your purse

They gave not a fig for the aged

Or those just a tad over time,

Or the young mothers wrestling with

pushchairs

Each one had committed a crime.

Before long, word spread throughout

Sussex,

That Worthing had got too expensive

Shoppers deserted in muttering droves,

And the council began to get pensive...

They know full darn well there's not much they can do

Our poor town one can see's slowly dying,

And if they try to tell me "that's not the case",

Then I'd say to them straight that they're lying.

You reap as you sow, so the old proverb goes,

And our leaders have got little right,

As for the town centre?

Death by Parking, I fear.

Will the last warden turn out the light?

Andrew Lawrenson

Langbury Lane,

Ferring

NOTE: All letters must include a name and address which can be withheld by request.

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