Kensington, 1960 (Poetry Monthly)

Cherry

By luigi_pagano

Mon, 03 Aug 2015
  • 2474 reads
10 comments
 

Do you remember, Carlo,

the walks in Church Street

at midnight, after work,

when the restaurant closed?

 

The roads were deserted

and we relished the peace

and the silence of the night.

No one else was around.

 

As always, we hunted in pairs

and kept a look out for toms

but so was Jack the Stripper

who left nude bodies in car parks.

 

The girls were panic stricken

and kept indoor after dark.

So it was quite a surprise

to find two in Holland Park.

 

They were young students

they claimed, out of luck,

trying to earn a few bucks

by offering personal services.

 

You refused and went home,

perhaps scared by the asking price

or the thought of your daughters

who might follow in their footsteps.

 

You never asked what I did, Carlo.

I confess that I succumbed to lust

and  took them both to my flat.

And that, my friend, was that.

 

© Luigi Pagano 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Certificate 15
Poem
Mutevoli pensieri

Comments

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Critique welcome. blush

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Shadowy and menacing, a dark vision of the city.  I really like the speaker listener relationship, the sharing of a secret.

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

This was inspired by the memory of those tragic events in the 60s near the area where I had digs. If I recall rightly seven victims were found roundabout Kensington and Hammersmith. The perpretator was never discovered, just like his Victorian predecessor. They were indeed dark times.

Your feedback is much appreciated, Helen.

Luigi

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

And my grateful thanks to the editors for the Cherry award. smiley

 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

You reminisce so briliantly. You pulled me right into those (on the whole) innocent times in London ... or perhaps I was the innocent one, but life seemed so much more simple then. As a student working in Soho pubs at that time you re-captured for me the atmosphere of walking home on late night/early mornings in central London. I actually loved the city of my birth in those days.

THANK YOU for reminding me of my lost love.

Ed

 

Submitted by Canonette on

Great stuff, Luigi. The personal address of the first line brought me straight into the story and made me feel complicit in some way - it works really well.  Reminded me of a Raymond Carver story, Tell the Women We’re Going.

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Chuffed that you found this poem worthwhile, Canonette, and that the personal touch worked. I haven't read the particular story that you mention but shall endeavour to do so. Thanks for the tip.

Best wishes, Luigi

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

I lived and worked in London for many years and like you, Ed, I loved the city. Even though I left some thirty years ago I still remember it with fondness.
So glad that my reminiscences have brought back loving memories. Thank you for letting me know.

Luigi

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

It's a dark confessional and it draws you in. What I liked best is how you draw parallels to Jack and the narrator's temptation which makes you doubt reliability and honesty. You've used nostalgia and memory as your place and I think it's an area we all pace when there's been a killer on the inside. Should it be 'pairs.' 

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Much obliged to you, Ray, for your feedback. I am so thrilled that you caught my oblique reference to the predatory nature of the narrator.
So frustrating about the missing 's'. I must have read the piece a dozen times and never spotted it. Thanks for pointing it out. Shall edit tout de suite.

Luigi x