It could be one of those days. Dull, overcast, rain forcast before lunch, turning to stair-rods with knobs-on at tea. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Girls Write Poetry
“Girls write poetry,
that’s all they’re fit for,
that and shagging,
but probably those who write poetry
aren’t that tasty: slags, bints and whores
to be quite honest with you
I’d rather have a wank
(and to tell you the truth, I often do,
if I can get it up)
“Girls write poetry. Us men,
Us Welshmen, Us Welshmen
from the Valleys who follow [...]
To The Good People at Gates Four and Five
Not the hardest of tasks, perhaps, at first sight
to guide the throng to their appointed places,
scrutineers of belonging and belongings
of pilgrims who close soon their journeys.
An order of friars, orange habits,
forbidden by vows and observance
(with promise of sustenence)
to enjoin and enjoy the pilgrimmage.
Theirs is not the way, [...]
Everyone has a routine going to a cricket match. It usually involves double and treble-checking you’ve already treble-checked – your wallet, keys, mobile, ticket, most of all ticket on your person. This morning I went through this rigmarole so many times you’d have thought I was auditioning for a remake of Rain Man.
