Here is a short poem I wrote, must post a pic of Clulow park:
Billy Clulow Park
One sunny morning I was angry
Listening to jazz, I went to buy milk
As I said I was angry
Anger is pain
It stops things moving
My mind was stopped
And consumed with a raging fire
I thought to myself
What would be the 70s reaction?
What would Steve McQueen do?
And as the snow melted
And I kicked the mud
I started to dance.
All in Billy Clulow Park
An old lady sat smoking and her dog stared at me
Even the cat, my hated enemy received a friendly smile
And I wished it would go
But like pain
It doesn’t do what it is told . . .
Perhaps Steve McQueen would sort it out!
by Rod White