Walking towards Havant's Waitrose on an errand for my mum, I passed Macdonalds, with its pale occupants, snarfing strange meats - young men in white base ball caps headed for The Papermakers - mobility scooters carried their corpulent riders towards the Meridien Shopping Centre -
There were stalls set up in the pedestrianised street for the Saturday Market - a bravo offered to unlock mobile phones - thin men in red fleeces darted back and forth behind a barricade of vegetables, shouting out their blandishments - lovely caulis, ripe tomatoes, two for a pound -
I then saw a burger stall - the boy was stirring a pyramid of sizzling onion rings
- I remembered the times when, half cut with drink, I'd bolted burgers in a midnight precinct - I heard again, in my head, the car radio, playing American laments -
Icy rain fell upon the grey pavement - I thought of Larkin's words - home is so sad -
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