(after Horace Ode 1.13 Cum tu, Lydia) Robbie, what’s she got that I don’t have, this latest little protégée of yours? The way you keep on bigging up her poetry makes me sick. And if I have to hear you … Continue reading →
(after Horace Ode 1.14 O navis, referent) You call yourself a Flagship! a literary liner for such as me to cruise away their days. Don’t make me laugh, you’re listing on new waves. You make me sick. Your passengers have … Continue reading →
(after Horace Ode 1.15 Pastor cum traheret) When a DJ drags me off into the floodlights, (a traitor to his own poetic cause), and drops me, his class act onto the deck to grope around the half-lit stage in fear … Continue reading →
(after Horace Ode 1.16 O matre pulchra) Ignore my email, trash my sarky poem. Don’t forward junk, it just makes matters worse. My God, but you’re your father’s son all right. Shred the bloody thing! No women’s writing groups, no … Continue reading →
(after Horace Ode 1:17 Velox amoenum) Denise, you gave up England’s northern coast to go down under where the surfers play. Your Grove Hill voice has moved in as my muse – her mithering fills the block at Clockhouse Wood. … Continue reading →
(after Horace Ode 1:18 Nullam, Vare, sacra) Danny, mate, enjoy your amber nectar, a special pint of brown at friendly fringes. The tipple of the gods, a one-off binge is fine because creative life is hard and even harder still … Continue reading →
(after Horace Ode 1:19 Mater saeva cupidinum) Of late, I seem driven by Cupid. Feelings that had died have struck like lightning, unexpectedly, again, ignited, perhaps, by a nightly tipple, and the idea of having rubbed shoulders with the T.S. … Continue reading →
(after Horace Ode 1:20 Vile potabis) Don’t just pore over my meagre emailed words, come up and get ratted on my hard lines knocked back with Newcastle Brown in proper bottles I bought from Yarm offy especially for you Stephen, … Continue reading →
(after Horace Ode 1:21 Dianam tenerae) Girls, don’t be scared to fantasise, sex sells, you boys as well, erotica is hot. Use basic instinct: that’s what hits the spot. Young women watch Madonna light the stage. She revels in her … Continue reading →
(after Horace Ode 1:22 Integer vitae) We genuine poets don’t have to take the flack that other writers take from jealous peers. We’re never crushed by critic profiteers who just can’t wait to stab us in the back and even … Continue reading →
