When getting my nose in a book
Cured most things short of school,
It was worth ruining my eyes
To know I could still keep cool,
And deal out the old right hook
To dirty dogs twice my size.
Later, with inch-thick specs,
Evil was just my lark:
Me and my coat and fangs
Had ripping times in the dark.
The women I clubbed with sex!
I broke them up like meringues.
Don't read much now: the dude
Who lets the girl down before
The hero arrives, the chap
Who's yellow and keeps the store
Seem far too familiar. Get stewed:
Books are a load of crap.
Two women walk into a bookshop today. One asks if This is My Life by the winsome Eamonn Holmes is in stock. Shockingly, it is not. Disappointed, she turns to her friend and asks if there are any other good books. There are not.
Labels: books, eamonn holmes, philip larkin, tv biography
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