Comments about Martyn Speed
Rubbed Two Sticks Together
Have a shave they said.
I didn’t know how, so just before bed
Dad had to do it.
Only thirteen. Bless.
I sat with my music on the coach.
Travelled for hours past the flowers.
To the middle of nowhere.
But with the lads.
We all sat by the fire with heated spikes in our eyes.
We made bombs. Baked bean cans full of kerosene lined up
in the grass like they were being judged for a fight.
Glistening in the torchlight.
String fuses like hair.
We didn’t lose our hands, but we nearly did. Off came the last lid.