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B Road Blues

Born by the river, out in the sticks

I was born on a bend on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Making old friends, Rubicon tricks

Much still to fix on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Romans rode here, hear the hoof clicks

Some see their ghosts on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Journey’s the same, the dead and the quick’s

Cutting through the mist on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Executor, executrix

Fresh eggs for sale on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Love lasts forever, young love pricks

Some are still searching on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Stone and timber, timber and bricks

Much to remember on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Stacks with plenty, plenty with nix

Weather unrelenting on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Players pretend with frantic theatrics

Not just teenage kicks on the Forty Eighty-six

 

They fought before with axes and picks

Fought a Civil War on the Forty Eighty-six

 

The pain they pray is the lame and the sick’s

May one day fade away on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Some are flame throwers, swear like Bill Hicks

Others grow church flowers on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Hat-tricks won, missed penalty kicks

Dislocating hips on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Life ain’t a sweetshop just selling Twix

It’s a big ol’ pic’n’mix on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Simon called Peter, Richard’s nicked Dick’s

Some names are made on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Magicians vape smoke with their cash and card tricks

Magic’s still a secret on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Some write with quills, sharper than Bics

Slanty-id italics on the Forty Eighty-six

 

A thief may never know from whom he nicks

Flash cars flashing past on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Ringing guitars’ lickety licks

Bending like Hendrix on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Choose party sex over party politics

Horny Burke’s dilemma on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Peace wind blowing Vulcan aeronautics

Once heroed Hurricanes on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Hellfire statistics, bullet ballistics

But now bombs won’t win wars on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Some speak the truth, some speak synthetics

Some don’t speak at all on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Birds and beasts, lambs and chicks

Nature’s an engraver on the Forty Eighty-six

 

No slow runners, torched Olympics

Silver, bronze, gold on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Carabosse dusk dirt-track dominatrix

Allsortsa country matters on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Peacock feathers flair in fancy flicks

Pride falls like darkness on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Ain’t surprised the dead get more crosses than ticks

Many miles of road on the Forty Eighty-six

 

Paul Curran was born in Stratford-upon-Avon in 1975. He holds a degree in English Language and Literature from the University of Oxford and a Masters Degree from the Royal Central School of Speech & Drama. He has worked widely as a professional actor. His Only Sonnet loosely follows the pattern of the seasons, comprised of 100+ ‘alternative’ sonnets; Repeat Fees and its 80 sonnets and longer poems was published in July 2017.

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