Hull 1958. Poem by stephen west

Buddy Holly at the Odeon and I’ve got stalls, third row.
All my friends are jealous because they wanted to go.
My Dad works at the hozzi where they get tickets buck shee.
“Bloody Holly! I don’t know – you can go because it’s free”

I loved the show. The guy was good. The compere, Des O’Connor.
Within six months a plane crash and Buddy was a goner.
But music did not die that day. It lived in lads like me.
Still watching the performance from seat seven, stalls, row three.