Queenie, Queenie.

not my photo

Queenie queenie who’s got the ball, is she short or is she tall?

I don’t remember how the rest goes...

Or when you chant it….

Hang on…

Queenie, Queenie, who's got the ball?

Is she fat or is she tall?

Is she hairy, or is she bald?

You don't know because you don't have the ball!"

Ah.

A ball game.

I remember now.

I remember the Queen from when I was little.

Then an adolescent.

Then a young man – I poached salmon on her river in Scotland.

(Only once.)

As a father.

Tonight.

The Beatles.

The Queen.

Public telephone boxes.

My time.

R.I.P.