Dropping Tea

status poem


Some students say they think I’m posh.
I am nothing of the kind.
I have learned to watch my lip.
Breath, measured.
Tongue, clipped.
Pauses are well timed.
My broad Luton drawl retreats.
My grammar is refined,
but even she
would spill her tea
if she heard me
dropping mine.


photo by Alisa Anton on Unsplash

The Writers Manifesto


Lucas Howard

When I was seven I started copying poems out of a book and telling people they were mine. When I ran out of good ones to copy, I had to start writing my own. I have been performing and organising nights on the UK spoken word scene now for over seven years and am most of the way through writing the first draft of my first novel 'Zedlist', which is serialised on here. As the story is in fetal form, any critiques or suggestions are most welcome.

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