for years she called them parkies
- darkies - and mister to their face
and grew a wart upon her chin
don't come that - she stuck the door
made pot-noodles out of straw
and sold hot dogs out of date
don't bother your head with that
it's a bit of tat from butlins
I picked it up on the fair
she keeps it for a keepsake
forgot it was even there
a memento of the jubilee
her kid was the one - with his bulldog -
and his laced up boots
and short cropped jeans
it was lice that made him cut his hair
don't you drag him in
and put that down - you witch
The Blue Book
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