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All The News Unfit To Print!

The Onion Field

Sing, yous Muses! Sing! Oh not of sacred

Anfield’s fearsome Dreadnought, with its cloth of

Mars and silver cups bedecked; sing rather

of The Albert, Anfield’s honoured picket-

ship; one-time portal to the very Gates

of Kop, where from its change-soaked beering-rooms,

the reddened hoards of fans disgorge to cheer

domestic gods. Sing Muses, of the ship-

wrecked sailors of The Albert who, throughout

the week, devoting daily, keep the dry-

docked Joyful Jimmy on his sea-leg feet.


Sing, of cheek by jowly denizens

who drink away interminable hours

and contemplate The Alf, The Albert’s warden:

Alf, who with well-ordured life, creased pants,

inhaler primed, and, aching-heartedly,

is making waves along the littered street, all

dicky-ticker, die-doed-up (he doesn’t

miss a beat) to tap into the Albert’s

entrance; threads and veils of misery

trail about his very feet … Read More


Zzub!

The Patio Through Binoculars

PS

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