Saturday 2 August

Inspired by Ms Pepper, and her effortless fluttering around the palpitating heart of Manchester’s poetry scene, I decide to see if I can’t coax Badger out of his ivory tower with a gentle wooing, combined with a subtle appeal to his legendary vanity.

Esteemed Badger, could I cadge-a
Favour?

One I would return with interest to any likewise encumbered
City Centre neighbour?

Myself and worthy friends are launching a poetry pamphlet that may be of some interest and benefactors are sought but between you and me they are not a patch on you for who could be bolder and braver?

While those cursed with lesser constitutions might consider a re-draft, I simply haven’t the lifestyle to realize such niceties. The poem is passed to Mandy for delivery, along with a proposed meeting time & place, and I am off with Hogarth to Chorlton village to bid goodbye to Laughton, who aims to transport himself and his girl to New Zealand using only the power of gin. There is shocking news at the Shoebox Tavern en route; Hogarth breaking it to me that Daisy – his housemate, my hearbreaker – has broken not one but two of her elbows while tumbling from her penny farthing. Shocked, I send my most musical carrier; ‘mend these broken wings’ the message I wish to relay, before deciding that’s (quite) enough poetry for one day.