New Wave (Remove filter)
Saturday Night and Sunday Morning
In New Wave days and times of Kitchen Sink,
The Club could seem the centre of the world.
Spent workers went inside to swallow drink;
Tempers might flare, cheap insults would be hurled.
Booze sharpened anger, retribution swelled,
As unattended wives would cast a glance;
The sum of all emotions was expelled
In cold revenge with little left to chance.
And there’s a h...
Friday 26th April 2024 4:53 pm
Recent Comments
Graham Sherwood on Look Both Ways
2 hours ago
Russell Jacklin on Mob Rule Mentality
4 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Target
6 hours ago
Jon on Innocents' Deadly Foe
9 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Good to be back!
9 hours ago
Mike McPeek on A Somewhat Short Poem About Almost Nothing
12 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 28. Politic-toc-tic-toc-tic toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic]
16 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on When Genocidal savagery meets the useless outrageous ignorance of closed eyes
17 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on When Genocidal savagery meets the useless outrageous ignorance of closed eyes
19 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on Target
19 hours ago