What is it with young women with buggies?
Both seem to get wider with each passing day
And use the pavement as a playground
Where their feckless children can play
Skateboards, scooters and other diverse playthings
Are added to the cigarettes – usually Kings,
That hang permanently from pinkified faces,
Beneath this rainbow gathering of hairpieces
Adorning those many empty spaces.
The pavement, somehow, seems smaller these days.