I went to a Lou Doillon concert and as arranged met her afterwards with my partner Stephen Masefield in a pub near the harbour arm
Stephen read a number of poems which Lou enjoyed very much and we all chatted for the best part of an hour
My name is Harry Harper and I am a poet
I am married to Jane Stephen but Stephen is a large part of my life
Jane who by then had found us invited Lou to a supper later in the week
Which she accepted without thought
We are all artists in our own fields
It makes me sad to see that Folkestone
Has grown so soiled
It is quite ordinary in places
Once it was a most beautiful town
Loved by many
But then God withdrew this love
As the town had become conceited
The town did not deserve this treatment
And I am still angry with God
It deserves compassion and his gentle love
But this can be said of many coastal towns
Which have turned grey
Since their finest days
The Dream Life of Angels
Is playing at the cinema on the hill
Jane Stephen and I were the only audience
Which is a little sad
As Elodie Bouchez is a fine actress
Next week Willy Wonka is playing
Which I guess will be more suitable
For the squashed people of the town
I think it will play to packed houses
I have been told by Jane
That I am a fashionista
She says that I have an excellent eye
And know what works and what is chic
My eye was troubled greatly
As I walked the streets of the town
I say troubled but it is much offended
So I wore the shaded glasses of Zbigniew Cybulski
To lessen the pain that I was experiencing
On the railway statement
I saw a woman carrying
A transparent station bag
With a toy dog trapped inside
This was meant to be a fashion statement
But all I saw was a fucked off dog suffocating slowly
Tears of adoration ran down my face
As I shared the last moments of the dog
Leave the soft plant in the corner
Were its lasts words faint but auditable
I was angry with the woman
Not so much because the dog had died
But because she had committed a fashion crime
Which was unforgivable in front of my beautiful God
It was then that I realised that fashion
As we know it had died in Folkestone in 1998
And only angels dreamt of its return
As with the toy dog
The soft plant
In the corner
Also died