Deptford Market
By: Carmina Masoliver
About The Poem
I remember writing this poem when walking around Deptford, during a writing workshop at The Albany. Aside from three years in Norwich at university, one year in Córdoba in Spain, and some time as a baby in Hammersmith and Reading, I’ve lived all my life in South London. Having recently moved to the Borough of Lewisham, I feel connected to my roots and feel a strong sense of home. When I grew up in Tooting, I would go to the market every weekend with my dad. This poem ties together that sense of nostalgia, as well as my shared love for lots of onions with the other ‘character’ in the poem, featuring through overheard conversation.
The Poem
Ice cream and cold drinks;
Ali Baba’s Disney van
sells us yesterdays.
His kitchen pulled out
like his milk teeth in childhood,
leaking pipes bleeding.
Old rugs are rolled up
like sausages stacked on a stall.
Your tongue is a red carpet.
Asked about the rent:
I’m too scared to go, she says.
I’ve got a court date.
Orders a burger,
specifies lots of onions,
will squirt out ketchup.
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