Poem #2,732 | #BHANEW
Under that hollow North Stand
of echoing concrete we sunk in
our post-match extra half pints
after pints & spat out laughter –
a fair trade of phone-read taps
at those pumps – men in hats &
numbered-up shirts sang ‘loud
‘nough to rouse undead hopes
of being invincible – at least ‘til
next day hang-overs kicked in –
& then our risen place will be a
reset by others’ wins – all good
in love & war & some don’t get
this art – our open-air theatrics