The Nearly Man

Poetry
Marc Woodward 
​

​I nearly caught a fish, Mum,
I nearly won the race,
I nearly beat the bully
'till he hit me in the face.
 
I nearly passed exams
and almost got the job
but they gave the work to Sam
- that overachieving nob!
 
I nearly paid the loan off
but then the car broke down
so I nearly got a second job
- but I couldn't get to town.
 
We nearly went to Cornwall
for a week beside the beach
but the cost of renting caravans
is far beyond our reach.
 
I nearly gave up smoking
but with all the stress at work
I needed it to calm me down
from dealing with those jerks...
 
I nearly had it licked
but I went along this week
for another routine check up
and the scan looked pretty bleak.
 
It's ok though, I'm reconciled:
I've been finalising plans.
I'm going to have my headstone say 
"Here lies the Nearly Man!
 
He lived an 'almost' kind of life
- he never had his day, 
he spent his time just fishing
for the one that got away."
​

Although born in New York, poet and musician Marc Woodward has spent most of his life in the rural English West Country. His work reflects those surroundings and often has a bleakness tempered by dark humour and musicality. 
Widely published, he has appeared in the Poetry Society and Guardian web pages, Ink Sweat & Tears, Prole, Page & Spine, Avis, The Broadsheet, The Clearing - and in anthologies from Forward, Sentinel and OWF presses. 
His chapbook 'A Fright Of Jays' is available from Maquette Press.
​A collection co-written with well known poet Andy Brown is due for publication in  2017.

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