Roger McGough Quotes

This is the mother who one day chose to smother the child with kisses, and blows and blows and blows.

Do people who wave at trains Wave at the driver, or at the train itself? Or, do people who wave at trains Wave at the passengers? Those hurtling strangers, The unidentifiable flying faces?

I could never begin a poem: ‘When I am dead’ In case it tempted Fate, and Fate gave way.

Discretion is the better part of Valerie (though all of her is nice).

Let me die a young man’s death not a clean and in-between-the-sheets, holy-water death.