The hearse followed me north, past the Nottingham & Grantham turnoff; they overtook me on Gonerby Moor (He was escorted by a flashy Peugeot Convertible with a private number plate).Earlier in the journey, after listening to Paul Heaton’s Acid Country I had said to myself that I would like that song played at my funeral, though I worried that the crematorium would clip it, cut it short, and you need to hear the whole thing to really get the sentiment.
I thought that I had lost them by the M18, but then, just thirty miles shy of Leeds I spotted the casket, with its impressively close suitor still heading north. The sunshine boy of Billericay returning to the clouds of Durham City
This is a poem from Vagaries:
Love of The Key to Room 149