I have a poem in The Stare’s Nest today. At the time I wrote it I used to go to Leeds quite frequently for work and usually, though not always, stayed in the Hilton hotel beside the station. Sometimes I stayed at the Holiday Inn. Oh those expense account days!
Manhunt – Carmencita on the Run
Stupid, pure stupid I was. I don’t even want to talk about it. O Lord Jesus forgive me for all the effing and blinding I did to that shower of miserable bitches. I rue the day I ever agreed to help them. I knew. I knew. It was against my better judgement. Take my advice, if you’re inside and you only have a month to go, don’t even talk to anyone, just keep yourself to yourself.
Everybody is dying to meet her. Literally. She scythes her way through the oddballs who answer her lonely hearts advert, who frequent singles bars or are merely fated to encounter her by chance. Still, it’s no good to dwell on past misfortune, especially when it’s not hers. (Time Out, Carmencita – new edition for Kindle, 2014. £0.77p)