Work Text:
The original:
"221B" by Vincent Starrett
Here dwell together still two men of note
Who never lived and so can never die:
How very near they seem, yet how remote
That age before the world went all awry.
But still the game’s afoot for those with ears
Attuned to catch the distant view-halloo:
England is England yet, for all our fears–
Only those things the heart believes are true.
A yellow fog swirls past the window-pane
As night descends upon this fabled street:
A lonely hansom splashes through the rain,
The ghostly gas lamps fail at twenty feet.
Here, though the world explode, these two survive,
And it is always eighteen ninety-five.
A new version:
"Squad 51"
Here dwell together still two men of note
Who never lived and so can never die:
How near they seem to us, yet how remote
Their era was before the world went awry.
Klaxons sound, their race begins
Sometimes with the engine, oft times on their own.
Radio, treat, transport, praying for wins,
Tiredly back to the station: humble, hungry, their home.
An interrupted meal, TV show, then conversations
Notably amongst these two at the table or for hours before bed;
Crazy ideas, camping trips, turned down promotions,
A friendship discussed and lived out in their squad of red.
Here, though the world explode, these two survive,
And it is always nineteen seventy-five.