Sixties Poster Boy
Emblazoned on my Sixties bedroom wall:
Bond, coolly suave with Beretta in hand;
Jane Fonda, breasts bulging as Barbarella;
Zappa and Hendrix, hairy guys with phallic-
necked guitars. I daubed my walls psychedelic
tangerine, cupboards orange and maroon.
I lived with my grandparents in Liverpool;
my grandmother died in frigid January ’65,
the same time as Sir Winston Churchill;
on black and white telly, the Union Jack-
draped coffin, mourners lining the Mall.
Later, nights with my Grandad and his pals
at his lawn bowling club after the footie
match at Anfield, where I got a skinful
of Double Diamond and Scotch, got home,
puked over Jimi — a psychedelic splurge.