I remember the Jukebox
in a pub called the Greyhound
a biker pub with normal misfits
most of my friends wore denim n’ leather
in those perfect days
the Jukebox loaded with many classic rock
songs and a few traps, and once I unloaded one
Good natured bikers smiling and narrowing
their eyes

The pubs gone now, gutted
by fire and refitted, sold on
a lot of my favourite pubs are gone
now houses or flats but we do have
a weather spoons but that is of
no condolence, I much prefer
the pubs of my twenties

The old house where I used to live
still stands, I try to avoid it
at all times, behind the house
where I used to work now lies
rubble, but they used to fit tyres
there,  soon it will be more
houses or flats
Progress of course

The shopping centre
is going through its
usual changes, what was empty
now full, what was full now
abandoned, with adverts
hiding the absence

But it is mostly the Jukebox
I am thinking about
I hope it didn’t die
to painfully in the fire


2 thoughts on “Jukebox”

  1. No look at it this way, it was bought by a fat cat ex biker with memories of glaring at a young lad who had accidentally erred and put on the wrong type of record ! It is now sitting in his pool room with at least six Jukeboxes to keep him happy”

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