[Rob Stuart]

A grandson clock, a football bat,
A doll with pubic hair.
These things are all retailing at
The Shop That Isn’t There.

It sells a brand of cottage cheese
That men go mental for
As well as gangsta rap CDs
Your granny would adore.

It also stocks unusual books
On trolleys at the back.
Were you aware that Bruno Brookes
Translated Pasternak?

(Don’t bother writing up a list
For this imagined store-
It doesn’t actually exist,
So caveat emptor.)

[John Whitworth]

There is nothing in the rules about published poems. Nor about putting in poems that have already won competitions elsewhere. Remember. If it can earn money once then it can earn money twice. And I know at least one (Aussie) winner here who cares deeply about cricket.

Madly. Deeply.

[Douglas G. Brown]

I fired up my MGB
(Its top was down, the weather fair),
To buy an analog TV
From the shop no longer there.

I knew I’d have to journey far
(My mission somewhat like a dare),
To also get a VCR
From the shop no longer there.

And when I found it, I would traipse
Its aisles with a contented air,
And load my cart with movie tapes
From the shop no longer there.

As for these modern - day CD’s;
The tunes I love cannot compare
To 45’s and 33’s
From the shop no longer there.

[Brian Allgar]

There used to be a butcher’s shop, there used to be a baker’s,
There used to be a florist’s right beside the undertaker’s.
The patient shoppers chatted as they queued to fill their baskets,
But no one cared to linger near the mortuary caskets.

There used to be a grocery that sold delicious gammon;
A fishmonger’s with stands of herring, halibut and salmon;
A sweetshop where the little kids would splurge their pocket-money,
And parents bought them once a year a chocolate Easter bunny;

A laundry where the shirts were washed and pressed and folded neatly;
A barber’s shop that also sold “weekenders” most discreetly;
A dairy shop with cream and new-laid eggs and massive cheeses;
A joke-shop selling plastic turds and other jolly wheezes.

Now, every shop is boarded up where customers once flowed;
They’ve all been snaffled by the supermarket down the road.
Only the undertaker’s left to gain his daily bread -
He makes a decent living, though his customers are dead.

[John Whitworth]

Nice one, Brian.

[Ann Drysdale]

Sounds like my high street. The serious underlying truth of it makes this one a bit special.

[Peter Goulding]

Variation on a theme for Ann.

Write a poem on 'The post that isn't there'...

[Rob Stuart]

A substantial rewrite. I can't do poignancy so I've gone for crass stupidity.


A grandson clock, a football bat,
A doll with pubic hair:
They stock unusual objects at
The Shop That Isn’t There.

A taxidermy fish that drowned,
The Dawkins Book of Prayer:
You’ll see them if you browse around
The Shop That Isn’t There.

A realistic gents’ toupee,
A kids’ electric chair:
You name it and they’ve got it chez
The Shop That Isn’t There.

If you want tools by Piltdown Man
Or reggae by Voltaire,
Don’t forage any further than
The Shop That Isn’t There.

[John Whitworth]

I think that's great. Much better. But then I would. I wonder if there is a doll with pubic hair. Poor Ken, Barbie's boyfriend, doesn't have pubic anything.

[Rob Stuart]

Thanks John!