The Renovation


They’ve cobbled over roads down town, the ones where buses used to choke
Pedestrians, and angry cars would wallow deep in blue-grey smoke.
It’s stopped the traffic dead. Excited cafes have all burst their doors
And flooded waves of furniture along the pavements. Outside stores
They’ve planted trees, and ornamental fountains have sprung up. It’s all
So European that it doesn’t seem like Blackpool now at all.
But what a difference this has made. It’s culture, very lightly toasted,
Buskers playing in the shade, chestnuts being butter-roasted,
Tea and scones and pigeons bathing in the fountains. What a shame
They can’t upgrade the tourists too. Some things will always stay the same.

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