Friday, August 25, 2006


A woman, calling herself Kentish Town, has appeared at the Torriano Meeting House. Robert thinks she is having a bit of a joke at his expense. Be that as it may, we went for a drink afterwards at the Assembley House and bought her a pint.
She thrust this poem at us which she says she is too embarrassed to read to the group. I personally think it's an amusing reply to Rob's poem, and Kentish has given her wry permission for it to go out as a posting on this blog.

Champagne is not my drink, it never were.
I see the point you're making about my letters -
Bubbly and white - but that's for smart go-getters.
Look, Mate, it's London Pride or Youngs that I prefer:
A well-pulled pint has white froth on the beer.
Simply explained, it's beer that breaks the fetters.
Do us a favour, let's leave the champers
Until our first book's published. Listen here:

This woman , or dame, drinking Thunderbird -
I think you undersell y'self there. Load a
Glass with a dram of whiskey, add some soda,
That's more like your style, Mate. On my word,
Thunderbird sounds like a hot-rod racer.
Scotch, Mate! I'm Kentish hops and your're the chaser.

1 comment:

Plutarch said...

I used to know Kenty as we called her in the old days. She done good.

John Heath-Stubbs wrote a slim book of verse called the Torriano Sequences. It is published by Hearing Eye of which the address is 99 Torriano Avenue, NW5.