Return To The York Arms
written by: Ian Fletcher
It must be thirty-five years
since I have drunk in here
in this ancient York pub
that was once the haunt
of bohemians, goths and punks.
That time has long since gone
and passed into oblivion too
are the landlord and the barman
whom we all knew were gay
a talking point back in the day.
It now seems a world away
a transient scene that couldn’t last
the whole place since transformed
into a sedate tourist haven
part of the medieval museum
this historic town has become
as well as a museum of my past.
I sip on my third lager
which goes to my head
faster than it used to do
but now merely anaesthetizes
dulling, not exciting, the brain.
I think of how I’d once been
surrounded by fellow revelers
with my dyed blond hair
knocking back pints and pills
like there was no tomorrow.
Yet tomorrow has come
and my youthful self
seems but a pale shadow
or is it I who have become
the shadow of my former self?
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