Scunthorpe
I wandered lonely as a dog
Through The Foundry's fake marble pillars
Breathing in 24-hour fog
From the blast furnaces, atmosphere killers
Belching pollutants, grey miasma
Guaranteed to give you asthma

Continuous as the drunks that vomit
At the Lincoln Imp and Desert Rat
The tracksuited Mums with homes from Comet
And dirty old men after under-age twat
They congregate outside the club Garbo
They've literally no place else to go

A black man ran on Froddy road; for he
Was pursued by a xenophobic foursome
And then they elected the BNP
To sit in Europe and endorse 'em
They shot - and stabbed - and often knew
The complete inadequacy of the boys in blue

For oft when the internet I'm browsing
I recall in vacant or pensive state
The endless prefab terraced housing
And the burning skips on the Riddings estate
I think, as I view this town askance
I'm glad I got out while I had the chance
( ousgg is not seeking approval, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 18:11, 2 replies)

The Lincoln Imp!
Always a good night in the Imp. I always quite liked Scunny, despite it being where I lived for 20-odd years.

Glad I left though, especially when I go back to visit.
(d2086u, Fri 30 Oct 2009, 11:37, closed)

My Local Too...
...no doubt we'd have run across each other at some thing.
( ousgg is not seeking approval, Fri 30 Oct 2009, 11:42, closed)