Last night FILE and me
were coming down off E
and talking bollocks.
About art, mainly.

He’s going to be an architect.

We reckoned like
you can’t do anything new
yet something new always turns up.

and now and again,
in that whole bunch of new stuff
you can find people who aren’t full of shit.

who are, like he says,
class.

the one thing my gran reads is the Deaths in the paper.
she works out how ‘classy’ the departed were
by how many bereaved there are.