Shoulder O Mutton

Storm Gareth,
stronger, longer
and more annoying than Storm Gary
(and that's sayin' summat, I tell thee),
blows the scum right off the streets
and into the Shoulder O Mutton.

Today
I sit ap[ art from the throng
for I know I am not one of them
with my organic apricot fruit beer.

The walls of the vault are a colour
somewhere between buff and tortilla;
it's not on any Dulux chart,
the kind of hue you only arrive at
after a long and trying
deep phat phrying journey.

Walls like Nick O'Teen's lungs,
their linings reminding us
of the good old days
when you could smoke and drink
and slowly kill yourself
in a hundred different ways,
from Football Focus
to Match of the Day.

B.R. 16/03/2019