“Doubtless your streets…”

Doubtless your streets teem with miscreants and errant strollers. The windows of your cottages must be festooned with mock lace. Your doors surely sag on their hinges. Your tiny gardens must be rank with common gillyflowers and copied statues. Your kitchens reek of vile edibles — turnips, potatoes, lovage… One shudders.

Here is your project:

Fabricate a budget designed to rid our Sceptered Isle of the likes of yourselves.

Postulate the razing of your hovels to be followed by the erection of mansions.

Postulate exclusive shops patronized by graceful gentlefolk. Greco-Roman nymphettes in white marble peopling fountains with modest gushing. Nary a lady in public view not attired in exquisite headwear.

Valet parking universal, public transport banished.

Refined eateries serving delicacies able to be savored properly only by genteel palates.

Gothic altars restrainedly hymned by cosseted congregants — the few, the winsome, the titled.

Boulevards named for peers and Thatcherites.

Take the aforementioned amenities into account, and more if possible, in the provisioning of funds to your hypothetical exchequer for civilizing improvements on behalf of the beleaguered privileged class.

Assume the hoi polloi displaced by the upgrade are ferried to America, there to be absorbed into the excellent prison system. (Exclude that cost from your budget, it will be borne by charities.)

(Social Math — UK. Copyright 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.)

About JMN

I live in Texas and devote much of my time to easel painting on an amateur basis. I stream a lot of music, mostly jazz, throughout the day, and watch Netflix and Prime Video for entertainment. I like to read and memorize poetry.
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2 Responses to “Doubtless your streets…”

  1. cindy knoke says:

    “Doubtless your streets teem with miscreants and errant strollers. The windows of your cottages must be festooned with mock lace. Your doors surely sag on their hinges. Your tiny gardens must be rank with common gillyflowers and copied statues. Your kitchens reek of vile edibles — turnips, potatoes, lovage…”
    Can you even imagine how beautiful this all would be? Sagging doors, strolling miscreants, mock lace, not made by servitude toil? Copied statues, like the sorts, in many most famous museums.
    I want to beam over right now, and bring my camera, and stay for lunch, or longer.
    I love turnips and I can make them into a nice souffle, and potatoes are my favorite food. Leave the mansions to the poorly traveled, they like it there.
    I want to be right here!
    And I don’t even know what a gillyflower is, even though I know I love it, and want to take it’s picture.

    • JMN says:

      A delightful comment. I wholly endorse your sentiments. I love turnips, too, and all root vegetables, spuds not the least. I’m guessing that you have a generous tolerance for my whimsy. You’re in command of the camera, to be sure. When I looked at your last Salton Sea sequence, I kept thinking of a cherished remark by T.S. Eliot to the effect that it’s incumbent on the poet to uncover the beauty in what is not “pretty.” Paraphrasing from faulty memory. You do that eloquently.

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