This is not a poetry blog

I'm going to get in trouble with the boss at this rate (I can sense a 'No more poetry - Ed' note winging its way to me) but I dug out that Raymond Carver book I mentioned yesterday evening. The poem is called The Kitchen and here's the extract I was talking about:

I hung around the pond a long time
(the same pond that'd take my friend a year later),
once in a while catching a glimpse of my bobber,
now here, now there. Shadows grew fat
and dropped from trees into the pond. Finally
it was dark, and I biked home.
My dad was drunk
and in the kitchen with a woman not his wife,
nor my mother either

I also happened across one of his poems I haven't read for years called Hummingbird, which is possibly the most romantic eight lines ever written.

Anyway, anough poetry. Now for something more earthy. And manly....