Rolla’s café

THE DAY BUBBBLING WITH HAPPINESS
YOU THE CLOWN OF ALL GLORY
YOU SHOUTING OUT
‘WAITER! WHERE IS MY JAMAICA LONGBOAT?’

ROLLA laughing behind the counter hysterically
the music of those days filled with charismatic adrenalin
we would sit in yellow chairs the paint flaking off them,
one in particular very noticeable…….
the hum of old London town easing its way
up to Soho Old Compton Street
I knew every scratch on that chair
and even the cobwebs on the ceiling
the red kitchen door and the smell of chips…………

Suddenly so suddenly people began to change,
the “Drop out” became the ‘drop in

and a dollar driven beat intruded into our naïve conversation
I can still hear the roar of that beat as it charged
down the highways of the forever young
and London town magic cowered away.
Years and years later I visited London on a coach trip
I found my way to Soho and the remains of Rolla’s Café
it was now coffee bar all colour and magic gone, but in one dusty corner
stood the Chair, the scratches just as I membered them!

On the journey home that night,
I contemplated lost friends and the misery of memory .. !

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