Your hands, Doctor, healing hands that reassure even with a cold touch, hands that move my lips apart with latex softness, a guerrilla in the jungle parting leaves to spot the enemy. Your hands, Doctor, heavy hands that I remember as your face remains veiled in smoke, the hands that gave  me polio vaccine like a secular Eucharist,  a pink blob on a sugar lump … Continue reading DOCTOR


This post arises from the happy coincidence of two books I have been reading recently, books which, at first sight, don’t seem to have much in common. The first is Maya Angelou’s “See How The Caged Bird Sings.” We discussed it this morning at the monthly Birmingham Feminist Book Club. Part of a wide-ranging discussion revolved around literature as a means of self understanding, this … Continue reading Identity

He’s In Love With Rock’n’Roll Woah

This year seems to be quite big for anniversaries. I have probably heard enough about Sergeant Pepper and anyway always preferred Revolver. The 40th anniversary of the first Clash album passed yesterday with rather less fanfare but it is a milestone of its own particularly for those of us old enough to remember it (and buy it). A lot of the songs still stand up, … Continue reading He’s In Love With Rock’n’Roll Woah


Sang the Barracudas in 1980.  That, apparently, is also what a lot of Brexit supporters think according to one recent article. This seems to confirm what many of us thought, that Brexit is all part of a nostalgia for simpler times, when a policeman told you the time, when children did as they were told, when murderers got their just desserts, when Heinz tinned spaghetti … Continue reading OH I WISH IT COULD BE 1965 AGAIN