By the meagre spark of a cigarette, The scapegrace’s gang was always well met: Mealy mouthed and nicotine stained, They gathered by night but never by day. Haunting the queasy quarters of the city, The dark back alleys and the not so pretty Gelatinous overspill of late night bars, They dodged dustbins, drunks and stolen […]
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writing in north norfolk 