My life grows hard as
The booze drowns my poor highly-spirited wreck of a body
And the cold freezes my outers and
The streets are full of ice and
The people are in a state of panic as
The thought of running out of anything drives them to new heights of consumerist mania
Zombies stomp in, loading up crates of beans just in case
But me I just laugh as today it didn't even snow
And soon the ice will melt and the sun will flood right on in
Taking us onwards to spring when I'll be
Happy just to go to the pub knowing
The only way I'll fall over is if I've drank too much
Rather than on some damn ice death trap
That has apparently already caught a few
Bradford Middleton was born in south-east London during the summer of 1971 and won his first poetry prize at the age of nine. He then gave up writing poems for nearly twenty-five years and it wasn't until he landed in Brighton, knowing no one and having no money, that he began again. Ten years later and he's been lucky enough to have had a few chapbooks published including a new one from Analog Submission Press entitled 'Flying through this Life like a Bottle Battling Gravity', his debut from Crisis Chronicles Press (Ohio, USA) and his second effort for Holy & Intoxicated Press (Hastings, UK). He has read around the UK at various bars, venues and festivals and is always keen to get out and read to new crowds. His poetry has also been or will be published shortly in the Chiron Review, Zygote in my Coffee, Section 8, Razur Cuts, Paper & Ink, Grandma Moses 'Poet to Notice', Empty Mirror, Midnight Lane Gallery, Bareback Lit and is a Contributing Poet over at the wonderful Mad Swirl. If you like what you've read go send a friend request on facebook to bradfordmiddleton1.
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