A Poem To Mope About

It was a lovely morning and we - that is Marge and me decided the kids deserved a treat, so off we went. We live in Barking, so we didn't have far to go. We did the City and wandered down to Pudding Lane, where once the king's bakery stood - before it went up in flames, taking most of London with it. The king loved his loaves hot. We saw Wren's masterpiece and whispered in the gallery, came out and wondered where to go next. Marge said: "Bill, ask that bobby, he looks the friendly type." So I went up to him and said: "Good morning, Constable, any suggestions for an excursion without frills?" "I see the good lady's with you, so it can't be Soho and cheap thrills. Take 'em down to Hyde Park, Speakers' Corner, round that way. You can take the Central Line." That got us to Marble Arch in no time. "Could do with a cuppa char" - that was Marge, not me ."Why don't we have a look at the speakers, then go to that corner house for some nice cream buns?" Marge agreed, so we walked over to the railings. One guy was a Communist intent on revolution, another a vegetarian, who said Adam and eve ate figs until the fall, after which they ate pork pies and beef rolls. Then there was this West Indian who .. but then this other geezer caught my eye. He was standing there on his soap box under a banner: "The End is at Hand. Prepare to meet thy Doom." His suit was black, hardly surprising, his shirt white, but his face wore a dirty smirk. All else fitted but the grin. Was he savouring the memory of some naughtiness or sin? Strange happiness amid prophecies dire of gloom. "Uranium comes from Heaven, and Plutonium from Hell. And the two is gettin' married. Jingle, jangle does the bell. If you're good, you'll go to Heaven. If not, you know the place. Either way, be gettin' ready. Thin's is moving at a pace." So I said to Marge: "Marge, get the kids. Let's have a cuppa while we can.." "Silly," said Marge, "it's hours before closing time." "Not according to what he says, it ain't," I said.