Julie13's Fotothing

Back in 1937 a poet, John Betjamin wrote a poem about Slough, my home town. He was unhappy at the birth of the industrial estate which is now one of the biggest in Europe and decided to put his feelings into words.
Below are a few verses from this poem, which at the time caused uproar and in 2006 his daughter apologized to Slough,

Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough
It isn't fit for humans now
There isn't grass to graze a cow
Swarm over, Death!

Come bombs and blow to smithereens
Those air-conditioned bright canteens.
Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans
Tinned minds, tinned breath.

Mess up the mess they call a town
A house for ninety-seven down
And once a week a half a crown
For twenty years.

In labour-saving homes with care;
The wives frizz out peroxide hair
And dry it in synthetic air
And paint their nails.

Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough
To get it ready for the plough.
The cabbages are coming now
The earth exhales.