Walking down Hemel Hempstead high street in the half light of an autumn evening, the industrial estates rising upward against a violet-blue sky, is a pleasure unparallelled. Sexual ecstacy, the embrace of a fat woman, intellectual breakthrough, and moments of realisation and creativity are but hundreds and thousands to the Walls Cream of Cornish ice cream of sittin’ in Has Beans coffee shop with a coffee and two scoops of the aforementioned. x

The hotel where I lost my virginity.

A bottle of JD mate.

Just off Leighton Buzzard Road is where I go hunting on a Sunday.

the hum of a distant city
orange through leafless trees
looks like an eyelash

The gutter I vomit in.

– Oh yeah which way did you go?

– M25 at that hour?! Oh no, not a good idea mate.

Nice one mate,