these days to rob any bank
would take a certain élan
– a Clyde-like bohomie – smiling shouting ‘Thanks’
as you fire over their heads
a sweep of the hat a flourish before you run
now The Banks are boarded-up
or have taken a turn
are de-commissioned sell coffee exotic plants
and snacks are full of freshly-cut forecourt-flowers
we idle in them for hours
each defunct cash-point recess a window-box
choking beautifully
with wilted lily
and wild extraneous weeds
