A poem by Jim Young
Laughing all the way to the Banksy
There’s a hole in the wall,
where the Banksy was.
They have taken it away now;
(Careful! Careful! £££)
but they left the hole
that Banksy had placed
under the Banksy
around the wall.
"You would have thought they would have taken the hole
where the Banksy was, and not left a telltale hole." - "Uh?’
It was too expensive to keep,
and holes are cheap.
It’s in a museum now, on loan;
not the hole, but the whole Banksy.
They have all gone to see it
and left me admiring the hole
that ignored them ignoring it.
And the wall around the hole wishes
if only, if only, Banksy bach,
it was just a little to the left.
It’s dark and cold and lonely here now,
in the hole in the Banksyless garage,
when there’s a spotlight shining on the Banksy
and sparkling in their admiring museum eyes.
Banksy, are you any good at repairing walls?
Plain, old fashioned, breeze block, walls like.
Jim Young is a poet living in The Mumbles. He does his writing in his beach hut at Rotherslade, on the Gower.