Chapel Street

You see it all down Chapel Street. It used to be where the 'beautiful people hung out', now you see it all down Chapel Street.

The pros and their pimps, the 'trannies' and the 'fags', the 'old slag' (their words not mine), asking for tailor made's to take round the corner to their boyfriend who needs a smoke - he can't wear a cushion over his belly. She can, but we're not fooled she's not pregnant, just trying to solicit sympathy. 

Yes, you see it all down Chapel Street. The young girls with shorts up to their 'whatsit' (please trim your pubic hairs because I don't want to see them trailing below your jean line as you pass by my line of sight). The elderly lady with shopping cart glares at them & eventually they stand up to offer her a seat on the tram next to the girl in white carrying a Maltese of some kind in her Gucci tote. It's yappy & draws everyone's attention. 

The ageing druggie with lines on his face & tattooed from neck to knee mutters something at her under his breath and returns to his previous position of head in hands. Everyone else's eyes are glued to their mobile phone so they can't see it all down Chapel Street.

Julie Clarke (c) 2024