Saturday’s poem in the Guardian
We feel she may be cheating
at reading and spelling.
She has failed to grasp the planets
and the laws of science,
has proven violent in games
and fakes asthma for attention.
She is showing promise with the Odyssey,
has learned to darn starfish
and knitted a patch for the scarecrow.
She seems to enjoy measuring rain,
pretending her father is a Beatle
and insists upon your death
as the conclusion to all her stories.
• From Clueless Dogs, published by Seren (£8.99). To order a copy for £7.19 with free UK p&p call Guardian book service on 0330 333 6846 or go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop
Bevan forgot to buy more markers to finish his t-shirt for The Coach mexican theme night.
Rhys. Rock n roll n rugby n absurd 12 mile assault courses. Go Rhys.
Rhian Edwards presents Clueless Dogs.
I first met Rhian in Infant’s school. Then she moved away from Bridgend. Then she moved back 16 years later riding a fantastic bike (nobody else has done that since Mary Poppins). The lady has a lot more stories, songs and poems to detail her life and thoughts than I will be able to do so here but I strongly recommend you check her website out:
“An astounding Welsh poet with performances that get you in the emotional gut…” – Ian McMillan on The Verb, Radio 3.
Porthcawl Ukulele Band were invited too. Good fun.