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Matthew Jones

Updated: Wed, 6 Jan 2016 11:33 pm

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28 years old. Born and raised in Swansea, South Wales. Lived various places in the country working in healthcare related things. Writes music and poetry and enjoys a good open mic with lots of beer.


Audio is a song called 'Pieces' - Lyrics can be obtained aurally. Here is a poem called 'South Walian Romance' (very parochial I know). Welsh men watch a rugby game, Gathered in the club house, Their humongous chests heave in tight polo shirts, Every other word is ‘fucking’, They are loud and drunk, They are set like statues in this small pond, Welsh women cackle like jackals, Orange skin and mute virtue, These beaujolais day soaked hens are clucking, Soon a past his prime prop, May lead with his shoulders, Lumbering forth from the bandit in the corner, To take a Welsh woman out to the car park, For a short and passionless flaccid fuck, Followed by chips and a misshapen fag, And that my boy, Is South Walian romance.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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