Issue 38 — May 1997
'Oxford'
Oxford, where Cambridge people come to live,
where stuffy ‘gown’ looks down
on rural accent ‘town’.
That rural accent where ‘T’ sometimes ends in silence
And even the ‘Archers’ cannot get it right
Oxford, your misty spires bathed in
comfortable Duvet Hills
that keep it warm in Winter,
hot and sweaty in Summer.
Choking on her buses
students rattle by,
running down pedestrians on their way
to their college cleaning job.
Oxford, where the Status Quo
is far from being rock ‘n’ roll,
where the only rock is ‘not the boat’
as swooning down Cherwell’s
leafy gliding stream we go.
Sometimes we get stuck on punt poles,
left behind
or so blind drunk
at Summer balls
we leave the halls of Teddy
and Maggie
wondering, Oxford
will we ever see thee
again?
W.H. Ordinary (W.H.O.)?, Albert Street
