A day late, I'm afraid, no time to write
Yesterday, when I went out just to tell
A story upstairs at Gullivers. Quite
Full of punks at a wake, beered up, but all
Seemingly happy enough. But meanwhile
Upstairs I told my tale of bike riding
To London in '93, when I fell
Over a railway bridge quite near Kidling-
ton, Oxfordshire. After that, had a drink
Or two more with Derm, he was quite polite
This time. Jez, Roland, Conor, Mark, a tall
Girl whose name I forgot but was talking
To me for a while, helped to pass the night
Got home, forgot poem, saw end of football
About yesterday, Mon 16 June
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