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Wednesday, May 21, 2014

I'm sorry, John ...

Having spent an evening in the company of master wordsmiths Mike Garry and John Cooper Clarke, I thought I would try an homage to the latter. If you get a chance to see either of these brilliant men performing, grab it. Even if poetry is not your thing.

Anyway, here's a short one in the style of JCC. Sorry John.


Denim-clad, hormones in flux
I marked the days and all the fucks
I didn't give about the scene
Described in Smash Hits magazine.
I had my mum take in my flares,
I revelled in John's vacant stares.
I drank light ale, it made me drunk
The day that I invented punk.

'God save the Queen'. The village rang
With obscene strangled songs I sang
On adolescent foot patrol,
On fire with hate and rock n roll.
But no one heard the angry kid
Or felt the ennui I did -
They were indoors watching TV
The day that punk invented me.

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