The Market Seats

Five benches in a semi-circle
You can watch the world go by
But the middle one is sacred
Please let me specify
 -
Earlestown is a market town
Just like many others,
But a local bench is guarded tight
By a fearsome band of brothers
 -
Widowers and pensioners
But they’re all armed to the teeth
With mobility scooters, walking sticks
And bags with wheels underneath
 - 
One day I closed in on the centre bench
But I had to accept defeat
A voice said “Oy you can’t sit here son”
“You see these are our market seats!”
 -
There was no point in arguing
I was outnumbered three to one,
So I settled for the outside bench
As they grimaced and growled as one
 -
I got there early one market day
I’d recruited my mate Jeff,
We thought we’d try a pincer movement
Attacking from the right and left
 - 
All went well, we secured our ground
It seemed victory was won,
But the convoy arrived and surrounded us
We were again forced to move on
 - 
Our tactics done, our battle lost
We decided to wait in line,
Because pretty soon they’ll all be dead
And it will finally be our time!
 
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