by Matt Haynes
They smile for photos;
Their shoulder-mounted rifles
Brush the toddler’s hair. [read more…]
Jul 312012
Jul 252012
The Song of the Olympic Binman
by Matt Haynes
I am a binman for the council
And I walk the back roads,
Searchin’ in the dark for another bag to load.
I hear we mustn’t use our bin lifts,
I hear you will not like their whine,
And the SE10 binman must be gone by nine. [read more…]
Jul 032012
Outside on the pavement, the man with the mobile is growing exasperated. “Seriously, babe, you can’t miss it!” He steps back, wild-eyed, surveys the façade. “It’s like this big… red café…” [see more…]
Jun 262012
by Matt Haynes
Man: Gee, hon, what is that thing?
Woman: What?
Man: That round thing.
[read more…]
May 302012
I had a bit of Nadine Dorries moment at the Cutty Sark last week while looking at a display of ships’ figureheads; for George Osborne, it seems, has cocked a snook at all this trendy defogeyfication and had himself immortalised not simply on canvas, but large-as-life in carved and brightly painted wood. [read more…]