Closing Time

They announced it on the Tannoy, they said, you've been a toff,
But your M&S is closing now, so could you, please, fuck off,
I said, now just a second, they answered quick, oh yes,
I said, why am I being ejected if this is my M&S?

They looked at me quite strangely, said, we're family,
But we've all been here since morning, and we'd like to have our tea.
But I stuck rigidly to principle, I said, this is my store,
So I'm staying to do my shopping, for an hour, maybe more.

And while you're at it, chappies, my pocket contains nil,
So as it is my M&S, I'll have a tenner from the till.
Their cheery smiles had vanished, they said, it's come to this,
There's always just one wiseass, who has to take the piss.

And they called two burley bouncers, said, chuck the fucker out,
And were deaf to all the protests, I did most vainly shout.
So when a shop does tell you, that it's yours, just yours, alone,
Don't trust their smiling faces or homely, friendly tone.

Their bonhomie is hollow, their sincerity is crass,
And if, like me, you test it, you'll end up on your ass.

Unceremoniously Ejected

It's as much a poem about advertising and it's power to project inappropriate sentiment on its audience as it's a rant about M&S.


Rude Rhymes


Max Scratchmann

Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved