Reflections on the puddle of life

That was really fun!!

This reminds me a bit of th poetry of that Mancunian poet, Mike Garry I have one of his books signed an all but havent got round to reading it yet but this does remind me a bit of Gorton girls know all the words. To songs by Chaka Khan which if youve seen it in grafiti around the place is actually quoted from his poem which is conccidcently the title of the book.
and have't you heard Hulme has been regenirated and is now 'up and coming' which reminds me I need to go to visit the mother of all asdas again soon

I really enjoyed that one, Fifth! Thanks for taking us along for the ride.

Thanks guys

Nightie, I was hoping a Mancunian wouldn't catch me out! Did you notice I relocated the gas regulators from Bradford, to Hulme? Bradford didn't fit the rhythm and might have caused confusion: what, are we in Yorkshire now?!

Heck, what's a gas regulator or two between poetry

I hadn't heard of Mike Garry; I'll have to check him out, thanks.

the Asda sign lending
a weary green hue to the weed-peddling
fly-boys dealing their treats.
Just another night on the Manchester streets.

I loved that bit. I suppose it means more to me now that I've actually been to England =O and have some personal memories of Asda and Manchester, haha...

Nice work

extract fro Mike Garry's Mancunian Meander

Gorton girls know all the words to songs by Chaka Khan
They dance and sing And point and grin at all the boys covered in tattoos
Trainers gleaming faded denim twisting a sleeper in one ear
Driving XR3's and growing home-grown weed
Following the Kippax cheer
But only girls gyrate in Gorton
The boys are making plans To rid themselves of the CSA And move to Amsterdam

http://www.cheersta.co.uk/
you can actually listen to him read some of them , but they are well grim and his accent is well thick.

I managed to pick up a copy of Mike Garry's book from the library today. The website is ace: Key-one-free!!!, proper Manc, miserable but pretty cool all the same

Thought you might like it

loved it fifth, it's not often I get to visit the mind of a Manchester bloke. some great writing,

shimmer
out of the dark so I sliver the window,
pick one and we go out
for a quick ride; she fits me a treat,
we climb to the rise
of the slippery peak and taste
the gold sun-shower,
oxygen-stalling,

woah. I can't hear the English accent, for some reason I hear Tom Waits' voice when I read it. amazing how such a short piece can give an incredibly large and layered picture of a life.