Saturday, 11 June 2011

One morning

a one armed man with a trilby on

trotted past our transom twenty times.

I asked him in - and sat him down.

‘Gi’ us some beer’ he said,

‘Gi’ us some grog;

the sun’s in the East’ he said

‘past 9 o’clock!’

I handed him four cans, he smiled,

‘I got a flock of mouths to feed;

a farm; chock-full of refugees’

‘Gi’ us some tins’ he said,

‘Gi’ us some wine;

the sun’s in the West’ he said

‘Opening Time’

Wednesday, 8 June 2011


Look God – you did it - didncha?

Put me in here, didya!?

Make it clear, matey

- it’s bin creepy lately.

You see, I dunno whether to fire

in a dark place, this alley,

but I’m scared and ready to volley;

heavy, baby, hellfire.

Preacher says you’re up and about

in the darkening sky

but, me, I’m gonna lash out

to keep misself alive.

Hey angel come down - gimmee a mark

and get mi head on track - sort out mi heart.

Sunday, 5 June 2011

Why Not?

Gordon was an old guy

we met in a bar-room;

Andrew clocked him early,

gave a target smile.

Gordon got latched onto

(caught in Andrew’s chat-up)

singularly focused,

singing little songs;

but surprise lurked close

when Andrew met him nose to nose,

asked him in all sweet-ness,

a laser - ‘are you Jesus?’

Shocked he blustered ‘I am not!’

and Andrew caught him - now - ‘Why not?!’