I have an itchy eye (a weak stream)

I have an itchy eye
and the angel on my shoulder
looks and sounds
like Richard Wattis
highpitched when alarmed
the devil on my left knee
however
is as yet unfamiliar
though he sounds
somewhat like
one of Maggie’s
cabinet members
around the time
the Sheffield was hit,
possibly a generic type
of weak chinned
minor villain
from a 1960s
paperback spy novel
a Corgi perhaps
with a pretentious
“ex libris” sticker
on the inside cover

The Singing Sailors

sitting at a bus-stop
hood up to the rain
watching little paper boats
sailing down the drain
the jolly tars within them
all ruddy cheeked and so
shout ahoy as they passed by
then slipped on down below
I heard them underneath the road
their hearty voices deep
echoes of sea shanties
beneath the storm swept street
until at last the bus arrived
and I was on my way
I hope to hear them sing again
on other rainy days