pub night
hot knife
kitchen hangout
long ago friends
find me at home
with the old memory
of a landline number
its like
someone pressed
fast forward
is all
& my living room armchair
becomes a throne of ages
its
clear
i carried on
with the show
& when they go
i am left with a glow
that
i
was
not
the
fucknut comedy footnote
i feared / was sure
i could / might be
from loyalzoo.com
I like this a lot. No poet in the Brexit Isles has a better name than Ford Dagenham.
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