Michael Rosen
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The magazine, ‘Books for Keeps’ asked me to write four little poems under the following headings:


Michael Rosen
Spent the 1970s frozen
People think when he says this that it’s him being paranoid.
Truth is: he was hypothyroid.



Something we should all remember
Happened one day in grey November
When with panache and pace
the Metropolitan Walking Race
Michael won in grey November.
Is it really this we should all remember?



Can it be true that a street or road
Could cause a body unwanted pain?
Well, yes, it could if it were the street
That goes by the name of Dalston Lane.

Why should Dalston Lane be picked
As it stands sadly derelict?
Because it was the Council who
Refused the likes of me and you
To live or work in the shops or flats
And handed the buildings to sewer rats.

I’ll say no more, my lips are sealed
It’s a tragic and complex story
Where councillors who we thought were Labour
Turned themselves into something Tory.



In days of yore verses for children were ever so pretty
But nowadays they’re horrid and ugly and set in the city.





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