If I were friends with Stephen F… I’d have him round with pals for p… He could bring his hubby, as you s… I’d sit him next to Victoria Wood… I’d invite Alan Rickman, I do as…

Did you see? In her eyes, That sparkle? I think she knew you once, Or twice!

Do I write my poems and prose and… Cowardly! Do I publish them and say, "this… How indulgent! Do I say nothing?

“What is it?” (A baby of course,) “Oh it’s a boy.” And as you slapped on to mothers t… Like a wet fish,

I’m living in the cellar of a dead… Duncan, my usual purveyor of all t… Told me, “his wife just called and… So, I rooted round a box of ports and…

Oh I waited for you once in a whi… Kicking my blue sandalled toes aga… Regardless of the scuff. You were busy. I was an accessory.

Where are you going? Eyes of blue. With your car crash of a life. Displayed for all the world to see… Bloated face and gut.

Stallions charging, Foaming white, Breaking on the beach. They rise, Raise their heads,

I wanted to drink it, I drank it, It’s drunk. I wanted to sink it, I sank it,

Four march hares dashing, Running right to left, From my window. Three march hares dash back, Running left to right,

I remember You, Your gutsy laugh, Your smile. The way you read the world, people… The jokes.

How easily he cries, these days, With thoughts of you. He lies. These days,