Anyway, enough of the men, and I’m just putting these poems on because they did the rounds another lifetime ago. I’m only sharing the ones that stick with me, mind. Here’s one about biscuits, a safer subject than men.

Rich Tea

We sat like dumplings mulling over

Lack fun lives and soap opera,

Watching coffee levels drop

Wanting fags from the Union shop

And you called life a biscuit tin

That you get out what you put in.

Maybe tasty round and sweet –

We’re philosophical when we meet –

To dunk in cocoa or to crunch

A neat quick snack to spoil your lunch

Satisfying in excess

We resolved to eat them less.