Before the alcohol wears off I thought I would post a poem from 1992
demonstrating the ego of the poet.
Winter
Some people are loved by the centuries,
I am such as those;
Big John and Little John at the Englishcombe Inn
are always selecting me new beers,
The poetry publishers finding me new poets to read;
I have the luck.
At the hotel Anne de Bretagne south of St-Nazaire
I drank Vouvray wine and tasted nouvelle cuisine,
At the restaurant Le Commerce in Bouaye
the brilliant chef cooked me steak;
I have seen what no-one else can see,
I have the luck.
Some people are loved by the centuries,
I have lived my life with George Smiley and Rabbit Angstrom,
We have grown old together;
Neil Young and Robert Zimmerman:
I am my own favourite character,
I have the luck.
I could have married Sandy Denny
But then what would have become of my poetry,
Instead I settled for Fritz Cat
and wrote Susan a set of books;
Some people are loved by the centuries,
I have the luck.
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