I took my life and threw it on the skip,
Reckoning the next-door neighbours wouldn’t mind
If my life hitched a lift to the council tip
With their dry rot and rubble. What you find
With skips is – the whole community joins in.
Old mattresses appear, doors kind of drift
Along with all that won’t fit in the bin
And what the bin-men can’t be fished to shift.
Q: That pool, the one that you ollied up to smith, explain that thing. How deep is it?
A: My friend’s girlfriend had seen it while she was skydiving. He got someone to run recon; it turned out to be a monster of a pool that looked skateable. The thing’s like 15 to 20 feet deep, and even better yet, it has a huge natural roll in to it. Later on we found out it was a pool for horses — Either for washing them, rehabbing them, or sending them to their death.