We’ve said farewell to the Queen, and we need to say farewell to poverty too
I listened to the funeral on the radio in my garden. As I sat I pictured the route, knowing every corner, every old building from my decades of working, drinking, loitering, even sleeping rough within its crevices and crevasses. I much preferred the idea of sitting and imagining the cortege, the gun carriage, the rope-pulling sailors and the crowds.
The Queen was royally served by Radio 4 and the cream of the BBC’s presenters; though the sonorous, soft Scottish voice of James Naughtie
