Most pictures and words from Anthony C Murphy

Sunday, 16 December 2012


I remember discovering Bukowski on paper
When his words made sense
I was not at art school but Barry was
I went in with cans of beer
To bribe my friend with imbibing 
Whilst his classes went on
I was there to share a vicarious part of student life
And to get a part of the more physical action
We had dreams and read or read and had dreams
Within which the girls became real
All did well for themselves
But I guess it’s a struggle
I didn’t learn much so
I became a postman
Who drank in
What else is there to do after a shift at noon?
The collection
The delivery
Is easier than the composition

I reveled as an ambassador
Presenting monarch embossed packages
After shakingly waking rude people in the a.m.
To be uniformedly approachable in afternoon bars 

It was not legit
To take a van home
Or on an errand
But we drivers did
As management had done before
When you needed to sneak off to the beach
The bookies or do a spot of shopping
A quick snort was forgiven
Or given for

The thing with a Royal Mail trucklet 
Is that they are parkable anywhere
Even on the double yellows
We were safe
Police would sometimes commandeer us for this hi vis purpose
And like-minded criminals in their surveillance knew

I took to abusing the technique 

My car slumbering overnight pubside
Displayed a sign that red
And yellow in its liveried elegance
This Is Not An Abandoned Vehicle
But the Real Mail 
On Official Business

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