Broken bottles
Broken bones
Broken hearts
Broken homes
Local Boy Made ‘Good’
Although you’re glad to have me back,
Eating those chips will give me a heart attack!
I can’t sit in front of the telly all day,
For I fear my brain will waste away.
I don’t want a pint at the Working Men’s Club –
How about we cycle to a gastropub?
I don’t remember Elsie from next door but two,
Even if you are convinced I do.
And I don’t want any more tea,
Unless it’s ceylon, roiboos or elderberry.
You see when I moved away,
I left all of this without a care.
And now when I’m forced to come back here,
I am embarrassed beyond compare.
Middle Class Wooing
Don’t
bother
picking
flowers
They
will just
make me
sneeze
If you
really
want to
impress me
Just
bring
a wheel
of cheese
For an
‘expensive’
bottle
of wine
And a
little
bit of
Brie
Is
really
all it
takes
To get
into
bed
with me
Terra Firma
You can
always
trust
that
having
family
aroundWill
keep
your
feet
firmly
on the
ground
On This Street
One woman cries at the kitchen sink
One man pours himself another drink
One woman sits in her bedroom binge eating
One man gives another a beating
One man rocks himself to sleep
One woman prays the lord her soul to keep
One man paces going quietly mad
One woman realises she’s been had
One man cries for the loss of his wife
One woman downs pills to end her life
They all know, deep down, their lives are shit
But, on this street, they are powerless to change it
