Androids turning us on

Now all the jobs are gone

Robots dancing the pole

To Android rock and roll

Automatons hang out

Holograms twist and shout

Human redundancy

Goodbye to you and me

Because the

Pole dancing robots are here

Yeah the pole dancing robots are here

Mechanic smiling toys

Motorised girls and boys

Dance with Simulacrum

Beat on electric drum

Resurrect vinyl Mum,

The end has almost come.

Harry Rogers, Harriboy’s Hut,14th February 2017.

Bait up the trotline,

Stretched across the sands,

Bucket field mushrooms,

Seasalter crop,

Grandfather’s breakfast,

Another early fifties holiday.

On the never ending beach

My brother pats one more castle,

I coax crabs from under rocks.

Mum watches her new boyfriend,

Do handstands on breakwater.

And you?

Dad?

You ignore us all,

As usual.

Harriboy’s Hut, Aberbanc: 5th November 2016

Slips on his Cross of St George Undies,
Resists urge to scratch new facial tattoo,
Laces up his old steel toecap boots,
Takes black Harrington off hallway hook,
Doesn’t give washing up a second look,
This most ancient throwback bovver boy,
Ignorant and forever angry,
Is off to local rubber-dub-dub
To baaa baaa with his flock of white sheep,
Once a skinhead always a skinhead,
He is Millwall and no-one likes him,
And he proudly says he doesn’t care.
Drives off on his vintage chromed Lambretta,
As his wife moves her suitcase to front door.

Harry Rogers in the Red Bedroom 1st February 2023