Being thrown down steps and unto the kitchen, a growling came from within the room. Oh fuck, that cycle still continued. Pushed and dragged like a light sandbag. ‘Stop it ….., you’ll kill him’ He turned and looked while others came down to see. The look caught eye’s, nothing to be done? Oh, yes it was done. Ffs, this isn’t a poem with words that should meet, yet his memories, ffs…
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, read the Blues in Britain magazine review or listen to my BCB Radio interview. -
Stories and poems