A personal post
For various reasons, it was my intention not to waste readers' time with personal details. Until recently, when it was pointed out to me that the odd thing that slipped in was becoming the raw material for someone writing a poem using my personal words. Marguerite Heywood has now sent me the poem, here it is: The personal words of Tony Trehy as a city boy I steered clear of all this outdoor Romanticism although personally I don’t subscribe to this equation that makes a child death more meaningful I don’t often mention Galleries in Manchester though I visit them frequently as a city-dweller, I’m not sure that I would class fishing rods as “everyday objects”, but maybe books are ok why should I suffer alone o fuck paradise for me would be a cross between Berlin, Venice, Manchester people, noise, excitement, food, culture it is going to sound like I am in grumpy mood no wonder the majority of us have moved to cities fired or maybe sometimes bored by the academic analysis and the power