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.