Poetry by Trenton Swine, The East Hammer’s resident poet.
The day I ate mash
The day I ate mash, it wasn't smash -ing. -ing. -ing. My head was banging. Actually, never mind smashing - it was bloody traumatic. I was at Nathan's Pie and Eels and the mash was good. But I had a bad pint the night before and shat myself. And that's why I don't go to Nathan's anymore.
Trenton Swine was born in East Ham, has written at nearly 10 poems, owns one rhyming dictionary, and once put “east ham” in to an anagram creator on the internet. He provides his musings on East Ham, exclusively for our readers.