IfTheCapFitsSThis one comes with a po’m. Or kitchen sink rant, if you prefer. Yes, sorry about that. My Muse is a bully wot cannot be denied and I fucking wish she’d retire and go live in Sicily, or somewhere far enough from me, or run away with a nice boy Muse, or just run away and get eaten by a passing Shantak Bird, or something. But she won’t, worse luck. So I’m stuck with her and you lot with my poetry, Bumba have mercy on us all … Or perhaps not. Perhaps indifferent poetry is also a valid tool and I should be grateful that She’s still around and willing. Who knows… (Who cares…)