Reading The New Statesman ...

Every Sunday, I read The New Statesman -

I sip my coffee like a lynx eyed Spad -

I relish a fiery polemic from Laurie Penny -

I picture Nicholas Lezard meeting Razors in the hovel -

I wonder if, like Peter Wilby in Loughton, I live quietly and unfashionably in East Stoke - 

I work my way from the Editorial to Telling Tales - 

I remember how my dad used to read The New Statesman in the 1970s - 

He was then a Union official in the dockyard - 

Bring a spare suit he warned the minister - you might get egged -

10.30

Sunday 22 January 2017

The Old School House

East Stoke

Dorset