Return To Slough

Oh borough of Slough, oh borough of Slough,
How graceless and tasteless my poem looks now:
A pox on me now, bless your fresh cotton socks,
And your crisp Orange Pippins, created by Cox!

Like you, I embraced what was strictly commercial,
And gazed at the skies like your William Herschel:
In Slough he found Uranus, a planet one cheers -
And you’ve also made Mars Bars for eighty odd years.

Queen Victoria rode her first train from your borough,
And your trading estates are as large as they’re thorough.
Slough’s Sinkins produced Mrs. Sinkins’s Pink –
O Slough, how my verses were not worth their ink.

Oh borough of Slough, oh borough of Slough,
My graveyard in Cornwall prepares for your plough –
An importunate poet, I bathe you in praise,
And now you’re made famous by Ricky Gervais.


From the book Make Mine a Double