Poetry: My Motorbike by Ian Copestick

  My wife often asks me ; ” Why do you feel the need to Write so often ?  Every day You sit there, tapping away. ” Well, if you had, say for Example, a huge, fast Motorbike. It didn’t cost you A penny to ride it, and no Matter what hair-raising Stunts you did…

Fiction: The Bench by Paul Matts

She slumps down. On the park bench. And lets out a loud sigh. I am sitting on the other end of the same bench. I turn to examine the new arrival. She immediately bursts into tears. ‘Bollocks. What do I do now?’ is my initial thought. After composing myself but doing precisely nothing, I turn…

Fiction: Trouble by Ian Copestick

It was my partly own fault, if I hadn’t been so drunk I , at least, might have noticed the gang of teenage lads that were slowly surrounding me. I saw about four of them walk quickly past me, but I was too busy trying to remember all of the words to ” City of…

Fiction: Tell-Tale by Graham Wynd.

The night they kicked me out of the band, everything fell apart. Yet we were grooving so well that night — in sync — and the audience (such as it was) had been right there with us, swaying and laughing and dancing and all, like we always hoped for and seldom got. It felt as…

Fiction: Beggared Senseless by Ian Copestick

” Merry Christmas, ” the beggar shouted, as I walked past him into the supermarket. He was wrapped up in a sleeping bag, several blankets on top of that and he had a cardboard sign propped up next to him which read ” Homeless and hungry. ” Also next to him was a cute little…

Fiction: JINGLE BELLS, SHOTGUN SHELLS By Tom Leins

It’s Christmas Eve and I’m standing in the middle of a stash house in Hookhills, bleeding from one ear and trying to work out which one of the hired hands I should shoot first: the skinny guy in the soiled Sexy Santa minidress or the fat fuck in the scuffed-looking ballistics vest. I raise the…

Fiction: Household Names by Paul Matts

‘You there yet?’ Daniel’s voice is coming through clearly on my new Nokia mobile phone. ‘Not yet mate. Just met Kush in McDonalds.’ ‘Thought he couldn’t make it.’ ‘Turns out he can. Now saying he wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ We both laugh. ‘We’ll see Jake inside I s’pose,’ I suggest. ‘Yeah, I guess….

PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A CONSUMER: CATHI UNSWORTH

SONGS ‘Some Velvet Morning’ Lee Hazlewood & Nancy Sinatra, ‘Telstar’ The Tornados, ‘Bedlam’ Gallon Drunk, ‘The Gospel Singer’ Big Sexy Noise, ‘Give It Up’ Lee Dorsey, ‘Let’s Take It To The Stage’ Funkadelic, ‘The Gravedigger Song’ Mark Lanegan Band, ‘The Man With The Golden Arm’ Barry Adamson, ‘Yeh Yeh’ Georgie Fame, ‘Jack The Ripper’ Screaming…

PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A CONSUMER: NICK QUANTRILL

This was a regular feature in the New Musical Express back in the ‘80s and I thought I’d revive it. SONGS The Beatles – “Penny Lane” The Undertones – “Teenage Kicks” Buddy Holly – “That’ll Be The Day” TELEVISON The Wire Billions Only Fools and Horses BOOKS John Steinbeck – “The Grapes of Wrath” Cathi…

Have A Brit Grit Christmas! by Paul D. Brazill

A couple of years ago, I asked a bunch of Brit Grit writers about their favourite Christmas book, film and song, and this is what they said: Martina Cole: Well my favourite Christmas book has to be John Updike and Edward Gorey’s ‘The Twelve Terrors of Christmas.’ Film has to be Lon Chaney as The…