Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry, Sport

106/2023

It was an age to collect.
Waste filled the skies,
The streets, the water.
Dying things left their
Teeth and bones on
The rotting shores for
Us to pick up and clean,
To fashion new things from,
Inanimate objects with
No souls, treasure troves
For the uninitiated
Looking for memories
Of their visits.

It was an age to hoard,
To walk across the crimson
Sand and pick up every
Useless death we could
Find out there. And the
Planes with customers
Just kept on landing.

It was an age to die,
The plague washed up
With the bodies we
Robbed.

R 16/04/2023 20:11

Went to see Norwich City Women play at Carrow Road today. Interesting game (and 8 goals). Just a shame there are still men around who boo opposition subs warming up, throw misogynist comments at oppo and home players, and mansplain football to the women players who could probably teach those men a thing or three in every department of life. The same men, of course, who were busy singing Sweet Caroline like the sheeple they are. The great British male strikes again.

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