He would argue

He would argue

Make his point

Rail against the world

Even without alcohol

There was anger

So much of life

As rotten

As windfall

He saw maggots in the gravy

How could you be a welder

And a Tory

A pitman and a Liberal

Reality is always a stretch

Rich men never

Give it all away

Unless it’s a movie.

What was worth dying for

Living for

When the truth was always for sale.

It was easy to like women

Men were full of violence

Too wedded to competition

To make for good company

Unless the alcohol

Loosened tongues

Firmed up the ties

Between them

Careering through

Dirty streets

On a late-night jamboree

Waking up on the floor

Of a squat in

Belsize Park

Or on a bench

In the dark

By the Regents Canal

Thank goodness for beaters

Or he could have been shot

On a grouse moor

In Scotland

There was little respite

For reflection

He was never one for dark glasses

Or bathroom conversations

Mirrors are no fun

He laughs at little things

Sees the joy

In the faces of young things

And wonders what he missed

Being at war

When all he wanted

Was peace.