Belfast Faded flags whipped up in the easterly winds, Unions and tricolours, Fish and chip shops bristling with "what's yours love" stainless steel counter terrorism, Gravy chip and a dose of "here's me wa?" High streets empty as the clock strikes six and the Tarmac crackles as the sun beats down like the lambeg on parade, Kids whistling the sash, gable ends are portents, Buckfast fuelled 2am chanting, Taytos and orange girls, Pokes and polish folk Town in city clothing, villages in hand-me-downs Villains as heros , This is our Belfast
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