a crust
heel of the loaf
yesterdays fancies
slice of stale cake
& I was just a hungry boy
end of the food chain
mouths quicker to take
than my own
& this nice lady would feed me
a crust heel of the loaf
if I hung around
catch her eye
near her back door
until the day
I heard her talking
explaining
this poor ragged boy
never has enough to eat
comes from a low family
other end of the street
I feed him anything stale
& as the shame clear
caught my ears
I knew I couldn’t go there
no more
to turn away from
the seventh day’er
suggesting my antecedents
made me on the wrong side
of the accusation
& the words rise
only to stick in my throat
the long work the marches
hours nights spent
trying to put right
wrongs
I had no part in making
knowing I was doing
the work of the lord
& i knew
she wanted to make me cry
if not knowing the why
so i had to turn away
knowing that would only
serve her undefined needs
further
but I would not
be doing undeserved guilt today
& you she says
pointing a finger at my heart
cos (thankfully) she has no gun
every time we fight
you run
& I tell her
I like you
times’ I love you
others’ I can’t be around
you get to a place
your tank full of spite
maybe you’ve had a bad day
& you want to run your mouth
I’m not that kind
can sit
& just let you pour it on
but if you come to me
say something I do to upset
you got another thing
I can instead do better
then be sure
I’ll stay & listen
hear full
what is on your mind
the problem of starting late
using the years of youth
for other things than a career
then going to college amongst young people
who have not done those things
that took the good years away
tho’ maybe they are just now considering
edging on to the darker line…
fib filling in gaps of employment history
having to remember the lies
out in the wilderness of temp posts
three months six months a week a month
switching from place to place
picking up on skills gapped in those years
leaching on friendships gained
only to leave lose touch over again
then moving finally on to a full-time post
to find yourself amongst people
who never did the strange things
yet still are now on the same pay grade as you
to wonder whether if working full time
like these gaining the one job career
are the real wilderness years
that & the raised
arched eyebrows
it was the talking
got to me
the hours needed spent
on who was creating
failing divorcing
petty rich bitch quarrels
on use of a line
liberties made of charcoal
when pastels
gouache was better
today
the talking rather than doing
that & the eyebrows
raised arched
to emphasise how clever
we all were
talking
putting pen to line
brush to white
rather than working
raising sweat
for a living
these petty frustrations
of people
who don’t do
what they say they will
that mount
to an ever-rising frothing tide
until frustration boils over
& they say
all innocenti
y’never said
which to be fair
you never did
for some little fear of offending
& now
they circle like fire ants
hell bent on destruction
but now they have permission
to offer
get their catalogue of resents
out on you
not
whisky bent
hell bound
more a cheap
cider & cigarettes
wasteland found
holding court
singing songs
we’d misheard
misread the beat
out loud
the energy
the devotion you realise
must be needed
every day
every fucking day
to beat the bastards
beaters abusers cheaters
the lifeless who sit & watch
from the sidelines
this baying mob
who must be pushed back
handed their asses today tomorrow
otherwise every hour
they will be there
trying to turn out the lights
end your freedoms
make you less than you are
the only alternative
to retreat stay inside
do nothing say nothing
hide your light away
but man the energy
devotion necessary
to fight every day
every fucking day
is a killer in itself
I was young then
& people’s opinions seemed
to mean
something
& they laughed
when I said I wanted
to be the poet
& they were right to laugh
nobody needs a poet around
when you work hard
to make a living
but what I didn’t know
that I was amongst
the wrong people
academics journalists presenter types
those folk who don’t sweat
to make their rent
they love a poet to be around
but yes
they still laugh
& I think now I must’ve
just got used to being
ridiculed
for this crazy habit
of mine
to be young
arrogant as a flag pole
was the greatest gift given
to my youth
to not care what other people think
about music clothes politics life
anything everything
to fuck anything that moved
& move on like that never happened
make monster mistakes
& laugh them off
just to try again again
for failure
for success
often not knowing
which is which
was the greatest gift
ever
neilbenbow 