Vaguely Georgian
When I rail against the bland sterility of Modern style,
Then this is not the antidote I seek !
These cut-and-pasted noddy-boxes miss the measure by a mile,
With all the mumbled sorries of the meek.
Sure, their bricks are red, their roofs are pitched, their gables high and wide,
But why the chimney-pots, for goodness sake ?
Windows (though they’re never sashed) may these days keep the warmth inside,
But why must all their glazing bars be fake ?
All wrapped around such tiny rooms of hollow studs and plasterboard
Which any neighbour’s sound can penetrate –
And basements don’t exist, nor anywhere luggage can’t be stored,
And the ceilings are so low, they suffocate.
Of course, compared with houses of the past, they have a lot to offer –
Plumbing, carpets, wires and insulation –
But still they’re easy prey for ev’ry Brutalist and Bauhaus scoffer,
As these clones have spawned across the nation.
But worst of all, these mega-builders have the blueprints on their books
Of many variations on the theme –
And yet, in any field, they seem so terrified to mix the looks
Incase there’s fewer profits left to cream.
And oversighting councillors, with targets jacked and budgets slashed,
Are powerless or spineless to allay.
And so this new Jerusalem is jerry-built and pebble-dashed –
And yet, still beats a high-rise any day !
Rhyming Couplets 