feeding the ducks in
the park
wherever you want
I hate cars

we’re old baby boomers
from the nineteen fifties but we hate
nigel farage
and the rise of far right politics     ..

wrote a poem once that was published
in a little magazine and for which I received
a cheque of five quid and ****** happy
I was to have it

and there was the one that was
published in another
magazine for absolutely nothing
and that’s it, my career as a poet   ..

you ask what I’m writing
I sulk and say nothing
since you didn’t ask to read it   ..

money was tight, you know
so thought I’d try cutting my
hair for myself, but
it didn’t come off as I hoped   ..

hungry, he stepped
into the café
sat down and
ordered breakfast

knew he’d no
money to pay for it
and knew full
well that he would

wanted to kiss her in the rain
and have her forget
it was raining
she said, don’t be so ****** wet   ..