by Andrew Diamond | Jul 10, 2011 | Poetry
My Grandpa had a conscience Because he was a member Of the Poplar Board of Guardians, Administering the Poor Law In the poorest part of London In the early nineteen hundreds. They oversaw a workhouse. These were full of paupers, The undeserving poor, Who caused their...
by Andrew Diamond | Jun 5, 2011 | Poetry
My daughter asked if we would help them view a flat. It was in Lee Green, somewhere in South London I had never been. Getting there was slow. The traffic had to funnel from three lanes into two to get it through the tunnel. The flat was very spacious with garden and a...
by Andrew Diamond | Jun 4, 2011 | Poetry
I want to be adopted. I need to have new parents With buckets full of money To buy me lots of presents. They’ll leave me all their assets And when I’ve paid the tax I’ll still be left with millions And then I can relax. I’ve written an advertisement, It’s ready for...
by Andrew Diamond | Jun 4, 2011 | Poetry
Racing green, flecked with lemon, leaden, leathery to the touch. Oval like a rugby ball. Press the ends and feel for give, telling you that it is ripe. There’s enough to split it up into six delicious portions. Serve it chilled, not icy cold. Scrape away the slippery...
by Andrew Diamond | Jun 4, 2011 | Poetry
I love you, what more can I say And that’s how it’s been since the day That someone suggested I ask you out. How could it be that someone like you would go out with me? But I plucked up the courage; had tickets to a wrestling match, Though you wouldn’t go, you firmly...
