Tall But True Tales of Touring
NEW AND EXCLUSIVE! Want to peel back the curtain? Want to learn the gritty truth about life on the road with the Angel Brothers? Then you need to read Keith Angel's Tall But True Tales of Touring.
Love Bites
Under a dark , brooding sky
On the stark windswept cliffs
High above Whitby
Stand two thin, crepuscular figures.
Their dyed black hair
Blowing wildly in the stiff sea breeze
-only to be brushed back
By black nail varnished fingers.
Old Bram would have been proud.
One of them
The thinnest
Raises a long club
And with an air of reptilian concentration
-Strikes!
He misses his target with the first stroke
And the small white projectile flies wide
Of the the brightly painted miniature windmill.
Inside the tiny building
The corn grinding continues, unimpeded.
The lilliputian miller,
By now a nervous , alcoholic wreck
Reaches once again for the bottle
And squints out of the cracked three inch window
Damn those infernal flying balls!
Outside..
An older figure,dressed in casual sportswear
Joins the two
Offers his commiserations
For the missed put
To his sons
The Crazy Golf Goths.
The boys smile
White teeth dazzle against blue – black lips
It’s dad’s turn next
And they look on
Bloodshot mascara’d eyes
Calmly focussed on the waterwheel loop the loop.
How long , then
Before studded motorcycle boots
And long black trench coats
Are traded in for pringle pullovers
Farah slacks
And golf club membership.
