The Curzon on the corner
next to Woolworth's in Old Swan,
was like an aging movie star,
its days of glory past and gone.
My mum and dad would meet
to watch the golden oldies there,
Charlie Chaplain, Betty Davis,
Ginger Rogers, Fred Astair.
When war came folk would flock
to watch the news about the fight,
and the Curzon was a refuge
to escape the blacked out night.
Through the fifties Elvis Presley
and Cliff Richards stole the screen,
but the sixties found the Curzon
Art Deco had lost its sheen.
In the face of mass desertion,
and the bigger screens in town,
the ice cream lady melted,
final curtains soon came down.
At fourteen I was stacking shelves,
where the stalls had been,
at the Fine Fare supermarket.
Every Old Swan shopper's dream.
By Kath Dodd