Narrow streets criss-cross
in a town that once was
heavy with the swaying legs
of mariners and anglers home from the sea.
Now it is swollen by the lustful stares
of men who harbour thoughts of other men
and women too who have a passion
for one another’s views.
Rows of seats line up facing each other
far from ambivalent
readied as if to joust
with anyone in a queue.
The pedestrian is fair game,
not so much for molestation
but the hungry appraisal of passing trade
discussing weights and measures.
Sin Street seethes in any light
at any time of day
but comes into its own at night
when darkness swells the fever.