I (sometimes) call myself Mr. Pondersome. I'm a rather wordy, weirdy person. I say hullo a lot. I write a lot more. While you're here, why not give some of it a read?

Wednesday, 29 October 2014

HULL IS NOT A FIELD (a.k.a. One Last Poem Before Halloween Stuff)

Hull is not a field.

Ships are not made of grass.

You can’t pierce the shell of a branch of study.

You can’t remove the outer rind of a sports venue.

East Riding is not an open land.

Well perhaps.


Maybe it is.

To an extent,

Hull could be a field.

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