A Gravy-Stained Time Machine It must have been a strange sight: a large, portly gentleman in a checked linen Borsalino, sitting on the passenger side of a beaten-up left-hand drive Rav4. Well past his prime, just like the car. Its blue-green paintwork was as faded as his hair and patchy, like his memory. His eyes…
Too old to pogo Just an old git, Limbs currently feeble, No longer fit, For disjointed grooving, To angry alternative, Dance hits. Deaf as a post, With a badback, My childhood has scarpered, It ain’t coming back. Youth was never wasted On this young gun, Fuck me sideways, By Christ, I had fun. Sex and…