I was at the launch of my writers’ group anthology last night. Tonight, I will see The Doctor himself, John Cooper Clarke. As you can imagine, I am all poetry out. So, I thought I would randomly pick an old poem of mine and share it with you all. I hope you like it. Here it is:

My head is an egg

They used to call me big head

They used to call me Frankenstein

Years later, I bought a mirror

They were right

You would think my head is full of smartness

Albert and I like peas in a pod

But I would be a fraud

A fraud

Not Freud

No, Freud would hate me

Unless he likes movies

That is where my head is half the time

In the smog-filled cloud of Hollywood

The heat would poach me

That I know for sure

My Head is an egg

Leave it simmer and it will crack

Be prepared if that happens

The limits will be boundless

My head is an egg

Words are the egg whites

The yolk is my love

What you do with that knowledge is not up to me

Crack me open

Just let me go runny

It’s a bit silly. Oh well, I hope you enjoyed it. Tomorrow is a big day in Fin’s life. I am sure you will hear all about that on Monday. Thank you for reading and for your time.