I first saw Seething Wells speak his ranting banter
at a CAST New Variety night in Shepherd’s Bush.
This rabid Ringo at the drumkit of language.
This red hot-handed crop brushing grit spitting
rush of Northern Soul. 1983 maybe and
Mad as Bradford.
fast-boarding great balls of bite
straight from the chip fat
at bat-breaking speed
this blindly blathering beast
jarring with the jingoistic, lingo going all ballistic
Seething Wells Spoken.
(both poets worked on the buses)