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.

Punk

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.