They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,

Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.

I'd love to hear what you have to say about the episode including thoughts on the poetry and the topics that were discussed. You can email me at poetdelayed@gmail.com.

My first book of poetry, My Mother Sleeps, is availabe for purchase at

The King's English Bookshop

and

Amazon.com

Special Guest: Tyler Mathis.