Saturday, June 11, 2005
Ode to MK
O Milton Keynes, how green thou art,
A settlement of plenty,
The concrete cows sing out thy praise,
New town for a new century.
Where motorway meets grand canal,
Where fields once waved with wheat,
Now houses fill each blessed plot,
Suburbia complete.
Oldbrook, Down's Barn, Fishermead,
New Bradwell, Crown Hill, Brinklow,
Monkston, Blakelands, Walnut Tree,
Two Mile Ash, Conniburrow.
Roads crisscross through this urban void,
A snake-like tarmac maze,
The roundabouts all look the same,
You drive through in a daze.
The football team are London scabs,
The mall is clone shop hell,
The cinema's no Point no more,
The streetlife's flat as well.
I came to MK yesterday,
I thought the trees were pretty,
But it was still a joy to leave
This artificial city.
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