Built To Not-Last (Poetry)

They’ve put up a monstrosity —
a heap of dark red brick
the architect anonymous
some deal done cheap and quick

Nobody wants more office space
sitting empty year by year
an ugly blot upon the town
while landmarks disappear

Quaint listed buildings tarted up
are traded in for dosh
converted into pied à terres
for those who think they’re posh

New eggbox homes termed ‘luxury’
grow shoddy — plastic-skinned
while price might keep the riffraff out
the rain soon filters in

Devoid of style — no character
no saving grace in sight
when such eyesores equal profit
nasty buildings spread like blight

Until some sense of taste returns
to this once-pleasant town
pray time and weather swiftly bring
offenders tumbling down