Posts By Karl Parkinson


Big Bust Bank Poem

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Big Bust Bank Poem

I’d just finished my 7 Mins of poetry
at the Irish embassy in London,
my poems and cursing delighted
and shocked the crowd.
He came over: handmade suit,
free glass of wine.
The man from the Big Bust bank,
handed me his card, asked
about prices for workshops.
“Call me when you get back to Dublin,
we’ll meet and chat about projects.”
I took the card, my funds were a bit low.
I let it sink in for a day or two.
I argued with myself about it.
I wasn’t sure what to do.

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