Ladies and Gentlemen, This is my favourite market.
The sun is out and I want to do you a deal
I am going to put these Two items together, Manufacturers Retail Price on each is £20. That’s a a combined price of £40 But I am not going to charge £40 £35 that’s a fair price but not even £35 Put your money away Madam, Wait until I finished I will offer a deal so sweet That your husband will want to buy them for you He has the look of a bargain hunter, I will bet even with his short arms and Unfeasibly deep pockets, he can’t resist your smile Not £35, £32 you say again a fair price But if you promise not to tell the other markets I will make it £30 just for you here today When they are gone, they are gone
I move on from the seller’s brash persuasion Lodged in my head as he barters with banter As I browse the Sunday outdoor sideshow, Stalls in the carpark of Seventies stadium venue Long before the marketing days, Whippet dogs, fifty shades of Greyhounds, Released from the trap ran the dogleg Pursued the hare with graceful speed Revved up roars of engines reverberate Calling out a challenge to the rival drivers Their stock is high even driving a Banger Cars clatter and batter, race to survive Cars and greyhounds both out of stock The dogs definitely had their day Until marketing became the world Cornish Market World remained on :
Par Todays indoor market boasts its largeness. Seventy stalls and expansion of opening Second hand has passed antique apprentice Goods less ad hoc and more streamlined Today’s sun shines down in past repetition Traders bargain but excitement not on Par Pasts brash colour whitewashed by regularity Marketing shopping but adventure left on the shelf
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