All the fuckin’ country
is tense about some dead duck football game
tonight at 8 pm (or so I’m told).
The sea it slinked away but turned again
and stealthily manoeuvres to reclaim
the mudflats populated by the clumsy
clumps of seals. They loiter, lolled
like slack balloons, like lard
collapsing down to chip fat on the hob.
But we, we sit up straight: our sofa, st...
Tuesday 10th August 2021 10:14 am