Thanks to Pathlost for use of this image.
An end-stop announcement.
A thwumping air-cushioned arrival,
Buffered by more constant background hiss.
In my internal bakery Bread Street
Remains an imagined sliced-pan provider,
An avenue of the jeelie piece perhaps,
But it was also where we would queue.
St Cuthbert took, but gave a little back,
Before loyalty was carded, or
Nectar rendered accountable,
There was The Dividend.
sds 