NaPoWriMo Day 18 - A clear head and a General Election
Is it a coincidence that my birthday weekend hangover has cleared and Theresa May's called a General Election?
I'm just grateful it's another day when the poem has written itself.
Excuse me, Mr Corbyn. Theresa’s on the phone.
Organic marrow in one hand
a thirst of social justice in the other
he smoothes down the breast of his cardigan
excuses himself from the meeting of UK cheese makers