Hilden Groag

Your dreamy twin spires striped in yellow and blue

Beckons me like some heavenly archway to you.

I am not alone in heeding your commercial calls

And droves return time and again to your lofty halls.

Phoang, Kerg, Torsk, names evocative of Norse lore,

Are the veneered spirits inhabiting each and every floor.

The red arrows below and above clearly point the way,

For us all to follow and make sure we don't go astray.

If you notice the drawers are empty and the taps are dry,

Let that not break the illusion: conceptual living is no lie.

The path is winding and the congregation seldom forgiving,

But do not despair in finding the way out of the building.

There is a corner of Croydon that will forever be Sweden

Where the chairs are famous and the meatballs can't be beaten.

November 12, 2001 12:00