Roger McGough (November 9 - 1937 / Liverpool / England)

This is an ugly poem a, a stupid poem, a hellish poem - but an artistically, undeniably really damn good poem nevertheless.

Il grow old{i hope} but never up.Saw Him at the playhouse recently and was pleasantly suprised.Great to hear itrecieted.

I love this guy, his mind is in the right place.: P

woow that shocked me

what an attitude! lovely!

This poem causes resentment to well up inside me. Not that I want it to, its a great poem. My indignation comes from knowing how it feels to lose a young man to a young man's life. He was 28. A long life has its own privileges, and price. How dare it feel it the right to turn what is a young man's price into its cherry on top.

Found your 'Waving at Trains' in a café bookstore in Bondi Beach and loved it. The ingrained humour in this poem is another example of how you turn the serious side of life away from us and yet heighten the meaningfulness of the message in the poem.

When I was 20 I took this poem as my motto.
Today, at 64 and sitting in a hostel in the old city part of Kashgar on the Silk Road, in sweltering temperatures - it's STILL my motto.

Is it still yours, Roger and, if so, what are you doing about it?

very good, its very intersting. i liked it.

This poem made me chuckle, and, what's more, I agree!