Director of Photography | UK & Canada
Down at the Fiddlers
for one the other night
they were asking me:
“Does your old Dutch still chew steak knives?”
I said “No, though she’s still a good sword-swallower.
She’s taken to chewing Scotch Eggs
and she spits the gristly bits
on the waxed parquet
which irks me.”
“Irks?”they said
I said “Yes I feel irked sometimes,
because my espadrilles skid
on minced rectal tissue.”
“How are the kids?”
they said by way of passing time
“They’re fine…just fine
just fine…”
Fertiliser time in the Vega Baja
God what a niff!
They’ve been piling it on today.
Set off on my bike
with a nice Scotch Egg in a plastic bag…..
really looking forward to my roadside lunch,
ended up retching with chicken-shit ammonia
fizzing in my eyes,
strong slurry spreading its stain
splashing my clean white legs
and God knows what else
searing my lungs and
damaging healthy tissue.
Terra organica?
No I don’t bloody think so!
Still the goats have sleek brown coats
and there’s going be a fine succulent
Christmas crop of fresh globe artichokes
