‘spite tryin’ our hardest not to grow up to be alike our father ’s… we a ’r in- articulate, fairly unattractive, unlike- able, misjudged by almost ev’ryone re: “Run, ’s, un- watched, over- looked, under- grounded but deep down we mean well but deeper down we’re well mean read us read us n’ weep the forgotten wordless gunmetal argentine back of a highway roadside sign stilled against the wavering—destination unknown
WHEN WE GREW UP…
ur losin’ ur ‘ouse w/ a smile on ur face u drove me up the pub. I got ur takeaway. ur kids dont say dad but use ur 1st name: strangers on the streets scream bloody disgrace. u’ve worked ur ‘ole life they call u a waste they’ll c me in ‘ell I’ll c u in space
Roy Duffield is a writer and translator and the art editor over at Anti-Heroin Chic, a journal that puts those on the outside inside. He is a winner of the Robert Allen Micropoem Contest (2021), was honoured to be chosen to perform at the 2019 Beat Poetry Festival in Barcelona and his words have recently been spotted entering such nefarious establishments as Versification, Into the Void (Saboteur Best Magazine, 2017 & 2018), The Ink Sac (Cephalopress), The Journal, The Dawntreader (Indigo Dreams, Ted Slade Award for Services to Poetry), Night Bus to Speakers’ Corner, SurVision Magazine, The London Reader‘s Raves & Resistance: Counterculture number, and of course the world’s oldest and most prestigious publication – his personal Instagram: @drinking_traveller.