Wednesday, 6 February 2013

Becoming a Poet.

We’ve got the old sub-zeros back tonight.

My office gets cold
When the old
And bold
Take hold

I just can’t stop being a poet these days. I suppose I should double the scotch ration, since I’m even beginning to look a bit like Dylan Thomas.

(Welsh accent)

Do not go gently into that goodnight
Rail, rail against the dying of the light.

Yeah, right.

See? Must be in the blood.

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