The National Gallery in London
For a while
Treats us to some top-notch stuff,
By one-ear Frenchman.
So on a cosy Sunday afternoon,
After Arsenal lost to Man U again,
And I go too.
Everybody stops and stares
And I stop and stare too.
The makeshift hand-made pipe and hankie
On an crude weary chair
Folk from this neck of the woods chuck-out every day,
And an uneven, clay floor
(Fancy having such a botch-up in your kitchen).
Thousands move on to stop and stare and sigh
In other rooms now. I made for the exit
And rush home
To make peace with all pieces of my furniture.