The only thing  
between me 
and a journalism degree 
was the 
Allenby Terrace steps. 
 
Well, there  
was at least one 
other hurdle – but 
 
those steps started 
to bite. And rather 
quickly. 
 
Best to blame them, 
since the real reason 
escapes me still 
 
(a good reason to  
still be writing, funnily 
enough). 
 
Every time I head 
down that hill 
I think, still,  
of being sat right 
outside the journalism 
class,  
 
my phoney – but all 
too real – Lucky Strikes. 
 
(Just take a deep breath. 
Exhale. Alright. 
Light another…) 
 
Round the corner to play 
pool and have a beer. 
Taking the easy road 
that got a lot 
harder. 
 
(That alone would 
have been a deep 
disappointment to  
my dad).  
 
Those early 
years straight after, 
ensuring the ‘free’ stayed 
in freelancing…never 
advancing up the pay-scale 
but getting recognised for a 
name or face in the paper. 
 
And then speaking to  
uni students, Media Studies, 
tutoring, guest-lecturing… 
 
The question that was always 
hardest to answer at the end 
of any talk. 
 
(how to chart my mistake) 
 
“So you’re a journalist/writer/reviewer…blogger… 
How did this happen? Like for example, 
what steps did you take?”