It's taken us forty years
to move from pizzas
to Boscastle pies,
though the music hasn't changed.
Nolan keeps going Hearts,
seven or eight of them at a time,
he must be in love again.
Ron becomes more and more
mysterious behind his beard
while John sneaks looks
at Grant's poetry, reminiscing
about a fat poet he met outside a hotel.
Guy has stuck on a seventies
moustache for the evening
and seems to know what each of
us in our best selves could be feeling.
Hearts lose, as they always do,
and with a handful of diamonds
the night comes to the kind of
sober, pre-midnight end that
forty years ago we would have
found laughable.
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