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Breathe In, Conk Out

These are two poems from Breathe In, Conk Out. More can be found on the main poetry menu

Down Mill Lane

Flattened toads like scabs:
guts pancaked, too dry to rot,
slim fingers intact

A Norfolk curse

May your ramblers' maps never fold up right,
May the catflap keep you awake all night;
May your favourite jeans be just too tight,
And then you'll know;

May the milkman never read your notes,
May the barmaid laugh but not at your jokes,
May your all-time hero be John Noakes,
And then you'll know;

May the phone always ring when dinner's served,
May your frisbee throws veer off in a curve,
May your kids come to see you're a bit of a nerd
And then you'll know;

May the cat and the dog cringe from your touch,
May your juniors at work point out your bald patch,
May the rabbit get mange and die in its hutch,
And then you'll know

Why folk round here make themselves scarce
When I've got my eye on a parking space.