I spent World Poetry Day doing a stand at the local library services literature festival, “Turn the Page”. At one point I took part in the “Poetry Cafe”, where I read a poem about war, “The Crows, the Crows”.
Yep, it was pretty chirpy.
Here’s one from a few years back. It’s a bit more upbeat, and was published in a local anthology.
You pick it up like a cigarette or a mint
roll it around in your fingers try the heft of it
try on the accent like a cap feel it slip
don’t you ecky thump me you dumbass thick git
I have worn my flat cap, I have seen
the smiles which we provoke together
he in his cap, me in me cap
shall I get me a duffle coat or anorak
to wrap this foreign body in?
If an anorak shall I be forced
to spot trains not merely ride them?
Dare I eat a gooseberry?
Dare I – more to point –
I practice my “oo” sounds
like some run round ragged rocks.
Say them now:
The next person to mention
Vietnam The Gulf Ronnie
Loredo will get a clip
right up yo’ head.
Oh bring me me flat cap
my bit o’ black pudding!
I shall carry white roses
I shall drink my beer strong,
my tea weak! The fish
shall lie down
with the chip, the eh
with the up.