sports and social club

the union jack flaps in the sunday breeze,
it's threadbare and almost transparent.
next door, the roof is lower than the rest
and 'this building has 24 hour CCTV'.
it's a private club - members only,
and the members are smokers.
fag ends float in brown foam,
preferring the drain to the ashtray.
it houses the three-fold joy of quiz, bingo
and races on thursday nights.
it's here you'll find the disco,
and live sport on the big screen.
an escapee blinks his way out
wearing a t-shirt: 'if found, return to bar'.
he asks 'what're you doing, love?'
and i chance a truthful answer.
'there's nowt creative to be found
in there', he snorts,
as he steps inside the house next door.