This paper is the same as that one
& it's identical to this
Fear mongering
Lying bastards
Thinking running the world
Would be
A piece of piss
I only do the sudokos
and the crosswords
If i'm feeling brave
Black & white newspapers
full of racism & full of hate
It smells like christmas dinner
But It's not due for a week
wetherspoons cashing in
yet when they do
it's bleak
There's never any flavour
& The meat is so fucking dry
but for a pub i applaud
because at least you gave it a try
you get what you pay for
& that i already know
But why is my tesco meal deal nicer?
Forgive me if I'm slow
A sandwhich in a box
at the local supermarket
this is a serious discussion
no I'm not being sarcastic
Ham & cheese sarnie
more moist than a pub roast
Unless it's a toby carvery
Which I'll always love
The most
A table for two
But it's not a date
2 overly excited nerds
sat opposite having a debate
one got so excited
he almost knocked over
his pint
But his mate is matching the energy
They take a break
Sipping at the drinks
But no food or plates
for their conversation
is more important
They don't care if they're home late
If you're wanting to know what they're discussing
I've just heard something escape
'I will become King'
Then the other continues his debate...
Tables full
every one
on a wednesday
a week before christmas
where do they find the cash?
Don't come for me
I'm not after backlash
I simply came to the pub
with a notebook and a pen
& once perfected
maybe perform them
I don't understand why people
have crosses tattooed
on their skin
or christianity & religion
or whatever they believe in
this man has a cross
beneath
his left ear
& socks & sliders
also
the fashion god
he must fear
is it a statement
being there
so close to your face
or is it a warning
Because I've not said grace
Tattooed Flowers stabbed
onto the back of a
shaved head
Sat
with a face of pure disgust
I wonder why he chose flowers
to be displayed so bold
I need to know
I must
But for some reason
He seems like a man
I'd trust
Familiar faces
Looking up at me
From the other side of the room
Egging on a conversation
acknowledgement
Anything
But I look down
Headphones on
Music at volume zero
Will they get the message?
Or should I become a social hero?
Dressed in a cape and pink underpants
Pulled over the top of my clothes
I'm just not really sociable
& don't turn up your nose
I'd rater write about strangers lives
But living in a small town means
That someone will recognise.
I pick up my pen
& scan across the room
These peple look familiar
Yet I don't know who is who
I've seen them in wetherspoons
Asda
& Greggs
But what they do for a living
Well I wouldn't have a clue
I know their coffee order
& what time they go for a swim
I guess It's the perks of working here
Locally in Rushden
I see them at their worst
I see them a their best
I notice the little things
& the people who seem of interest
I know their dogs names
And that their sister has been a bit sad
They fill the silence
Oversharing
Oh how they blab
I know that it's their sons birthday
& they've picked him up a little treat
You'd be suprised what strangers say
When you first start talking and meet
Comfortable in the shared space
A flutter of excitement
Most people our age
Are hungover
But we're driving to a garden centre
I sip at a coffee
& he plays with the radio
Flicking between 5 buttons
But only 2 stations play
Some with more crackles & static
Making small talk...
Nothing really meaning anything
When you live together
You're already caught up
But those quiet sunday drives
are something that I love
& I can't get enough of....
Lonliness has blessed me
With their presence
Eventually being lonely
Stops feeling lonely
You count down the days, hours & minutes
Till you arrive home
Sitting solo
Is sometimes the best way to go.
People hear the term consequence
& assume the worst
Like people like to do in general
Negativity
Fear mongering
Racism
Social Media
Cameras out
Recording other peoples suffering
But what are the consequences
for positive things?
Thinking for yourself
& working your ass off
to succeed
Loving something or someone so much
that the consequences
Are to be loved back
Equally...
Karma is beautiful
I've had to explain my fathers death
one hundred times
& I'll have to explain it
One hundred times again
I wish I had a sticker
Lanyard or a badge
" Yes, my parents are dead. Now talk to me about something else."
But then they'll talk to me about the weather
& I'll wish to hear another
"I'm sorry for your loss"
Instead
Come on darling
Just a small bite left
Just eat the ham & don't worry about the bread
Just a little nibble
Come on love
Then your mum won't complain
look I know you've had enough...
Hey if you swallow that...
You can have some more sweets
I've got some biscuits here
whatever you fancy to eat.
Who's you favourite?
Is it grandma?
Of course it is
you little angel darling star
You flipped a switch
More like
You switched my flip
Seeing red
Like a bull
In a china shop
Walking on egg shells
Damage is going to happen
When I'm shot in a room
Full of fragile things...
You've been poking me with a stick
But don't get suprised
When I get out a knife & fork
& bite your head off
At least offer me a drink
Or would you like me to be dehydrated too?
Ah I get it
Weaker people are easier to manipulate
She leads the way to the table by the window
He lets out a sigh before being seated
This outing was planned by the wife
They’ve gone out for a nice meal
At Wetherspoons
Dressed in their Marks and Spencer jumpers
His shirt collars
Peeking out
Patterned plaid
Clashing with the burnt orange pullover
She matches her white turtle neck with her hair
They sit in silence
Peering at the menu
He goes to the bar
And comes back with two pints.
She gets up and leaves to go to the toilet
He gets up when she comes back to get salt and vinegar
She gets up when he comes back to get brown sauce
Once they’ve finished avoiding one another
They pull out their phones and scroll through Facebook
With their index fingers…
2 middle-aged mothers
Taking a few hours off
The brunettes coat arms
Trailing from her bum to the floor
Shoulder to wrist
But
If her son
Left his coat like this…
Oh she would moan
She would complain about the cost
And the dirt and how she does so much
She would mutter put your coat up
Hang it on the back of the chair
Not dragging around in this muck
But here she is
With little care
She doesn’t have to play the role of mum tonight
And her friend
With blonde hair
Is cackling between sips of wine
The pub is full
But no one has said a word
Scrapes and cutting on plates
Is all that can be heard
The care homes are probably empty
For they’ve all turned up to spoons
A rainy Friday night
But treated to some food
They’re all dressed in their best
Lipstick reapplied
That guy hasn’t moved
Is he asleep or has he died
And that man took 6 minutes to stumble 5 steps
But the regulars that come here
Really believe it’s the best
Ah a buzz starts
But the buzzing isn’t a fly
A group of young men seemed to have just arrived
It’s that weird time
Dinner and pre-drinks vibes
But the vibes are a little strange
So I think I’ll finish my drink
His face
Like leather
Old and wrinkled
But his eyes
Still young
And full of pain
Tiredness seaps
From his frown lines
His smile lines
Barely visible
This man
Still hopeful
Waiting
On platform number one
He clutches a bouquet of lilies
For him
Today has just begun
Slouched over on the first seat he could find
Hard hat and a black backpack
Neon orange hi vis coat
With trousers to match
For once someone not looking at their phone
But staring at the ground
Preparing himself for a
Long wet day