Market day

[Keith]

Scraggy arsed and pigeon chest
frosted tight without a vest.
Risking heat from a balance flue
a choice of cold or co2.

7:05 the trucks arrive
bring the concrete slab alive.
Scoffold poles do a bamboo dance,
eh up mister ge us a chance. I stumbled over this and it broke the rhythm for me. perhaps you should write it in a way that reads better.

Now then ya scrawny bit,
what d’ya want you little shit?
Squeezes my arm, knots on cotton,
I know you graft I’ve not forgotten. ~ I think the top three stanzas are really well written BTW

Traders appear as the white vans land
throng starts to build in the canvas stands, (Don't think you need this)
hands wrapped warm on a teeth staining brew, (or this)
just tidy up lad, here’s a fiver for you.


The stalls open up announced by a chime,
the town hall clock can read my mind,
bus bike and cars, most people on foot, all should be plural EX. (buses, bikes, cars, and most people on foot)
trolleys and push-chairs let’s have a look.

Grandma, mum, daughter, and child, (add comma)
once more into, the north west wild, (remove comma)
be sure to rummage in every box,
and never pay what they say it costs.

Toddlers jousting with passing ice creams,
rogues are gathered selling knock off jeans.
Tired out, I find myself an old crate (don't think this works well, How bout Ex. ( Tired out, I find a crate...To watch the peas roll round my plate)
watching the peas roll round my plate.

Hey Keith,
Good work here. It's a fine poem. i added my two cents and glazed over a few punctuation issues that i noticed.
By the way we call it an ass over here in my neck of the woods....
Cheers,
Chazz

Many thanks Chazz I wasn't sure if the language would carry across the pond, all comments are very helpful and have helped form the edit. Thanks again Keith