in 1989
there was this month or two
when each estuary pub
had a chancer joe
selling graffitied chunks
of the berlin wall
of the berlin wall
out the boot
of their mk3 escort
or a borrowed volvo 760
& a small self conscious queue
formed after last orders
in the car parks cold & dark
espousing disclaimers & paying
in the heavy stink
of the seawall mud
