A rebel without a clue.

The building of the bypass between 1986 and 1988 signalled the beginning of the end for this middle England, middle English, middle Yorkshire market town. Slowly but surely all the symbols of Wetherby's local mercantile trade were erased until by the end of 2010 Horton and Hollander's, toy shop extraordinaire, vanished on the High Street. All pubs, with the exception of the Crown, have been face lifted out of existence or else banished to be replaced by wine bars, restaurants, toy shops and bedding shops. Every pub, apart from the Crown, has had a few walls removed, appallingly cheaply make overs, façades of MDF and threadbare millenary, gardens covered with vast smoking areas and dens for paving slabs and concrete blocks. All menu's are steam in the bag affairs in kitchen's run by snot dribbling, fag smoking, oil stained 'chef's' for whom food is a four letter word. Just look at the cleanliness of these individuals: would you be willing to eat food prepare...

by Daniel J. Sherburn Written in May 2011. Part 1. Growing Monkey puzzle trees right, left and left again A solitary weeping willow Arranged like one hand caressing  the Eastgate/Quarryhill round-a-bout; Disused where once there were springs, fountains and a petrol pump. Travelling back towards Wetherby My mind has become unravelled Mind and I must venture there soon. A bus route forsaken dump Rambling bland 'To Let' bulldozed wastelands, Low rise warehousing with its padlocked shutters A Nissan flagship and another dozen flurried showrooms Stand shoulder to shoulder Out of place in a cheap rent part of Leeds. Where the very nature itself springs from the roofs of too often forgotten Victoriana: Tailors', Machinists' and Pressers' Trade Union on Cross Stamford Street. Coming loudly behind me on the bus The sound of second hand "r 'n' b", the damned Dumb and chav-youth music of distinction, Surpris...