Midland Road, Bramhall, Stockport. SK7 3DT
Turn right into a right to buy road, past passed by, sub sub Lutyens semis, to the sublime, sub prime suburban worlds, teetering on the brink of prosperity.
Set back, set against a greying gun metal sky, sits Parkside Social Club.
So there it’s not there.
A chilling ambivalence that merely suggests occupation, a last grasp gasp.
Tattered flag picnics, burnt out embers, paint peels for want of anything better to do.
The world’s first un-social social club,
Where Roland Rat dances alone,
Every night, forever.
It’s not funny anymore.