Friday, June 28, 2019

Pillock by Paul Brookes

All that's left of his pit days,
is the laughter amidst

dust and danger below, a pitprop
to hold up what's worth living.

Old miner taps his mate Fred’s
pint glass as their sat in the pub
and says so as a young lass in boob tube
and short skirt can hear:

Thas overdressed love.
I should take summat off,

if I were thee. Tha want
to change thee butcher.

Tha wants a skirt to go with
that fanny pelmet.

Thas got some right
nutcracker arse cheeks on thee.

Aneorexic lass walks by
Tha wants to diet, love.

Can't see all thee ribs.
Needs a bit of Belsen time,
eh, Fred.

Plus size young lass
comes past Tha wants

to eat more, love. Tha
made it through doorway
no trouble.

Spots young man with tattoos:
Tha a real man with them.

I bet some are prison ones,
aren't they? Its ten o clock

at night, abaht time tha
were jimmying folks locks,

hiving off with folks trinkets.
Tell thas college educated,
thas sharp as butter.

Lads dander up he shouts
at old one and Fred:

Oi. Old git. Shut thee gob
else I'll shut it for thee.

Old miners fall about in laughter.






Paul Brookes is a shop asst. His chapbooks include The Fabulous Invention Of Barnsley, (Dearne Community Arts, 1993). The Headpoke and Firewedding (Alien Buddha Press, 2017), A World Where and She Needs That Edge (Nixes Mate Press, 2017, 2018) The Spermbot Blues (OpPRESS, 2017), Forthcoming Stubborn Sod, (Alien Buddha Press, 2019), As Folk Over Yonder ( Afterworld Books, 2019). He edits The Wombwell Rainbow Interviews.


No comments:

Post a Comment

born naked die the same by Keith Pearson

we built our house from rusted car parts and animal scraps. water runs downhill where we sleep. from our bed we can see the city float at ni...