Retrospective: "The Lobster Pot"

Yesterday I (Nathan) was moving our filing cabinet and a poem fell out.  Huh!  It was a poem hymning the existence of the Lobster Pot, a seedy dive across the street from us on Craighall Road in Edinburgh ca. 2007.  We went in once.  That was enough.  There was no lobster, but lots of sketchy characters.  Hence the poem.  Still, now there's a Sainsbury's Local across from our flat, and I feel disgusted.  C'mon.  A Sainsbury's?

The Lobster Pot

Drunkards out, railing, waking
Sad conclusions to the night
For every sleeper to eavesdrop
Upon laments and dynamite,
The senselessness for neighborly taking.
Let every ear consume the rot
All's revered at the Lobster Pot.

Pale Christmas lights so soon
Blinking, faded, beckoning in
To watch the big screen players
While boasting of what might have been
That same old tired tune
Every night that age-old plot
Is told again at the Lobster Pot.