Celebrating National Poetry Day with a riposte to Rudyard Kipling from North Manchester’s unofficial laureate Mike Duff
It’s National Poetry Day so why not let’s celebrate with north Manchester’s unofficial laureate?
It says a lot about the cultural divide in this city that there will be many in the centre and the south side who’ve never heard of Duff. Others would have it differently. He came to prominence with the extraordinary novel Low Life in 2000, perhaps one of the finest ever to be written about the city, and was the winner of the BBC’s Poem For Manchester competition in 2004 (you’ll find the winning verse inscribed on the Curve Bridge at Piccadilly Place).
On The Road To Harpurhey can be found in his collection, Of A Mancunian, and the poet will tell you that it’s an homage and not a takedown.
“He’s remembered as this colonialist,” says Duff, “but he related to the ordinary soldier. He laments the girl he’s left behind and the life he’s left behind”. I’m a big fan. Danny Moran
On The Road To Harpurhey
by Mike Duff
sat by bernard manning’s club looking drunk down rochdale road
a collyhurst girl is waitin for me or so i have bin told
for the graffiti in the bus shelters an the drunks they seem to say
come you back with your giro, come you back to harpurhey
on the road to harpurhey
where the happy slappers play
an you can watch your life go down the pan, an you don’t get a say
her hair it was a dirty blonde an her eyes they shined so green
an she chained smoked super kings without a gap between
an she pushed a pram to netto, two kids that looked like me
but it was giro time again an i had some other place to be
on the road to harpurhey
where the happy slappers play
an you can watch your life go down the pan, an you don’t get a say
so take me somewhere east of moston to a street that nobody knows
an i’ll live there with my heartache amongst kids with their asbos
but when the moon is high over Beswick an i hear a lone dog bark
i’ll remember the first time i kissed her an held her in the dark
on the road to harpurhey
where the happy slappers play
an you can watch your life go down the pan, an you don’t get a say
Photos: Danny Moran
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