Every year i witness the
Graduates, achievement chokes me
Choking me like
The kitchen drinkers and climbers
Of property ladders
Type one is rife, encounters
With armed gangs
Abound
Still i play noughts and
Crosses
Still i drive the paper driver
Still i listen
Still i mourn...and
Still i span the avenues
Of kings and of Swans, so
The magic of radio will be
With me always