I battle up the Oxford Road,
Where every day the rain does flow;
I go into survival mode
Because I have somewhere to go.
In every broken brolly,
In each poster-plastered tree,
And the odd abandoned trolley –
Signs of ‘Welcome’ Week I see.
How the pizza-seller’s cry
I’m beginning to detest,
And I am weary at the fly
-ers, vouchers, and the rest.
And then, through midnight streets I hear
The youthful fresher’s curse,
As he or she sheds a tear,
Crying “This week’s emptied my purse.”
Disclaimer: This quickly-typed venting of chaos-induced angst is in no way an attempt to do justice to Blake’s masterpiece “London,” nor is it an accurate portrait of Manchester – only a snapshot of the Oxford Road bubble in this annual week of madness.