Come to Sunny Prestatyn
Laughed the girl on the poster,
Kneeling up on the sand
In tautened white satin.
Behind her, a hunk of coast, a
Hotel with palms
Seemed to expand from her thighs and
Spread breast-lifting arms.
She was slapped up one day in March.
A couple of weeks, and her face
Was snaggle-toothed and boss-eyed;
Huge tits and a fissured crotch
Were scored well in, and the space
Between her legs held scrawls
That set her fairly astride
A tuberous cock and balls
Autographed Titch Thomas, while
Someone had used a knife
Or something to stab right through
The moustached lips of her smile.
She was too good for this life.
Very soon, a great transverse tear
Left only a hand and some blue.
Now Fight Cancer is there.
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Comments
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brilliant poem
From guest kc (contact)
brilliant poem about the harsh reality of life and the difference between fantasy and reality... awesomely written x -
Who beside Larkin could observe such damages to a piece of commercial art (probably a British Rail advertising poster for the seaside town of Prestatyn) and come up with such a contemplative piece of writing.
The final dry comment about the new poster replacing the defaced one is typical of the man. -
From guest kitten kope (contact)
i think it's about social disease....and it's about a poster....and someone graffiting it. -
Seems to be about some type of disease, and abortion, or a murder -- or all the above or none of the above, either way I found it intriguing just the same.
Not much more to say than that, a good piece that Larkin has written here.
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