I wasn’t your typical hairy hippy, because I couldn’t grow a beard.

I don’t know how to surf either, but I do swim three miles a week.

The title, though, does reflect the changes in my attitude over the years and, consequentially, the way I write.  My poems have travelled, loosely, from political and social comment to wry humour, with a little romance.  They are all dated, reflecting the times I have lived through.

So, I’m sifting through my collection of seven hundred plus poems, all unpublished, seeing which ones still make any sense, and putting the survivors on this web site.

In deference to the progressing themes and style, I am starting with the first and last ones together, and ending up somewhere in the middle.

Then maybe adding a few more if anything decent enters my head.

Here goes…

First Poem – Psycho (June 1970)

Last Poem – Lommashay Launderette (January 2016)

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