Tag Archives: Tim Wells

Is it True What They Say About the Posh Kids at Uni?

That it’s full of ’em? Drugging, drinking, humping, pumping, protesting and feathering the nesting? I heard one girl, so public school she’s an anarchist, blew a bloke at the Slavoj Zizak afterparty. Right there! She didn’t care. But don’t fret, … Continue reading

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There But For The Grace Of Bauhaus

The beige vomit trailed down her front sits vivid against the black of her coat. Nightbuses are indeed a fantasy world. The spatters on her faux fur collar smize. Though she is fierce, unrepentant and glorious, in her drunkenness the … Continue reading

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Space

So in the Second World War my grandfather served in submarines He said that they stank The men sweated all the time and sweat and condensation dripped from everything – from the bunks from the metal from the light bulbs … Continue reading

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Coming A Dance

In this Dalston dusk the lights from the chicken shops, minicab offices, Polski Produckti and all the bling crammed on the bus have dazzled the stars. The sky is a dark sheet replete with the stains of an East London … Continue reading

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A Ruffer Version

That time in Efes, when the killer strolled in, I’m sure Mehmet saw it coming ‘cos he blanched, and his eyes moved from the door to the barman, then finally to the man. The gunman walked behind him, as he … Continue reading

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