Chip Shop

[billy]

On the chip shop's menu board,
beside the photos of fried fish,
a West Coast girl with a coke bottle stands,
her black hair falling down like soot
from the chimney of her scalp.
Her small breasts are pert and her flesh talcum white.
We in the que pay her no mind, though she continues
to smile at the opposite wall. Our skin is pallid,
our clothes badly cut. Each buys his food and then leaves.

i really like the simplicity of this one.
the mundaneness of the queue (note queue,)
how things are noticed on the periphery of waiting to be served.

a good simile;

her black hair falling down like soot
from the chimney of her scalp.

the only nit is pert. why are small breasts always pert lmao. (cliche)

her small breasts poking
would the work instead of the first her? so as to not have two her's on a line;

the small breasts poking and her flesh talcum white.

not much to critique as far as content and style go.
it more or less spot on for me.

being from manchester, i would have loved to have seen a holland's meat and potato pie in there