Their love affair was always very
Lopsided. She was over six foot
In flats, and he reached barely
Up to her naked shoulders, the
Space between her clavicles
Where he rested his head when
His poverty clashed with her
Wealth and intellect. She said
She didn’t care for men her
Height, that their arrogance
Left her cold and angry. At
Night, he slept on her like a
Cat on a blanket, purred when
She stroked his hair. For them,
This was forever perfection.
R 14/05/2023 15:43
I have to admit I wrote this on my phone whilst taking a breather between what my body nowadays seems to think of as physically arduous tasks.
A brief series of thoughts on yesterday’s Eurovision. The UK won because just about everyone, except for Sam Ryder (who kept emphasising this, and did so well last year because he was all about inclusivity and pro-Europe), had forgotten that the UK was hosting the contest on behalf of Ukraine, not because th UK were hosts proper. The UK song was an average pop song at best, and not brilliantly performed, in truth. And the voting is political, still, and actually there’s not really that much wrong with that – and the UK is a pariah on the international stage because of its racist, freedom-stealing, international law-breaking government. And those in the rest of Europe, not raised on the staple diet of right-wing parochial mainstream media, can see beyond the facade. Simple, really.
A busy day. A very busy week ahead. For those of you who care, I’m on the wonderl Stephen Bumfrey Show on BBC Radio Norfolk at 15:20 UK time tomorrow. We’ll be nattering utter nonsense again, as good friends do. We just have the privilege of doing it live on the radio. I am a fortunate man indeed.
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