A new poem by Craig Raine

I was playing badminton with Harold Pinter

When by the side of the court

I saw her

There

Wearing clothes and stuff

With her hair

And her face

And her body

And her legs

And those shoes

With those bits on, like in that poem

And I thought

“how’s about it, darling?

I’m a poet, I am.

Doing clever wordplay in the poems and all that, like.

Yes.

I’m a cunning linguist”

But I said nothing

But thought I’d go home

And write a poem

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About loveandgarbage

I watch the telly and read when not doing law stuff and plugging my decade and a half old unwatched Edinburgh fringe show.
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