By BernardYoung

Bloody Poetry

You might like the idea
of being all dreamy and poetic
amongst a host of golden daffodils
but the next minute
you could find yourself in a rage
against the dying of the light

or fighting
your way through the crowds
on Princes Street
trying to reach the stage
to give a reading
where, either someone
will object to your accent
or the fact that your poem
called The Hard Man
contains some swearing
and will punch you in the face,
or you’ll pour your heart out
and end up bleeding
all over the page...


The photograph is of a page from As Far As I Know by Roger McGough.

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