Racing is Abandoned
There will be no more racing at the dog track
The earnest galloping of stick bone limbs is done
The earnest galloping of stick bone limbs is done
All the angled trilby hats and rattling charm bracelets
The coated kennel maids and deft bookmakers
Fill their Thursday evenings elsewhere
The Tote windows look on a more literal empty
The money rattles in the deepest of pockets
High fireweed and spread arm buddleia race
To colonise the track remains
Until the six lanes of Tarmac choke
The race to a standstill starts here
Inspiration: " Seance on a Wet Afternoon" (1964, Bryan Forbes)
Have you ever wondered, "What Would Margaret Rutherford do?"

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