Sunday, 13 April 2014

Guest Poet 4 (Gray Nicholls - first time)

(Here is a piece that could almost fit into the story that is currently been told actually - be it in a very different kind of style from Manchester based writer, Gray Nicholls) 

The first time I didn’t see you
You sat there coughing
And sneezing
To such a loud level
I am surprised
The driver didn’t stop the tram
At the next stop
And ask you to get off.

The first time I didn’t see you
You kept dropping your book
You kept furiously scribbling into
As soon as you were sat next to me
Before then ripping pages out
Only for them
To dart across the floor
To such a level
I am amazed people didn’t start
Skidding all over them
Like they were at a ice rink.

The first time I didn’t see you
I missed you whistling
Out of tune
On your Ipod
And then when the tune
Got to the really loud bit
Start singing aloud along with it
People thought you weren’t
Just tone deaf
But sounded like that
You were literally wanting
To start singing
With a pack of dogs.

The first time I didn’t see you
I missed your laces
Which were dangling all
Over the bottom of your boots
And caused
Two elderly gentleman
To tut at you
For ten minutes
After they both got on
And nearly went flying twice
When the tram turned
The corner onto cornbrook

Bringing forward that terrible

Accident by at least two weeks. 

(Gray Nicholls is a new writer who is currently working on his first book called B Sides and other oddities. His poetry blog is

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