I was walking through the village centre on the weekend
looking for a pub and it was one of those hot days
the ones where all you want to do is lie down and
look up at a ceiling until you pass out for 12 hours.
I look over the other side of the road to see a small
crowd gathered around what looks like a man laying
flat on the pavement, everyone is around him holding
there phones in their hands and in the middle of a
A man with a dog stands on stares
a man and his daughter stand and stare.
I go into the pub and put down three beers
and I leave after about an hour
I look over the other side of the road to see
if the man is still there and he is but the
crowd has gone, there’s an ambulance near
by and men and women in green uniforms
stand around him and now there’s a sheet
A police car and black car pull up right next
to the man and people walk on by turning
their heads to take a look as they walk into
the stores and carry on their day.
The man is put on a stretcher and put into the back
of the black car and taken away and everyone
keeps walking and shopping like nothing
It’s not a gold plated sort of place
it’s never to going be a monochrome jewel
of a experience.
Just a solid 8 hour day.
Surrounded by old metal and rusty
and that’s when you can find yourself
staring at a poster with a bored little
pug who’s been put on trial.
What a way to live
what a way to laugh.
This little dog is a not a god
But a pet going down for 10 years
a life time for the poor little dog.
What a way to live and laugh.
Walking through the town centre
on a busy Saturday afternoon looking
for a place to eat and calm down and
to get out of the craziness of the
high street I notice this new place
next to the shopping centre, Awesome
Chips it’s called, selling chips and
The thought runs through my head
that this is just going to be a fancy new
hipster like establishment selling fancy
chips made from fancy spuds with
fancy sauce in a fancy package.
I get close and that’s when I hear screaming
coming from inside the store, yelling and
That’s when a man around fifty wearing
grey jacket and dark blue jeans comes crashing
out of the store and falling into a cage containing
large bags of potatoes and spilling the
bags all over the street.
As the potatoes roll down the road a
large man abit younger than him and
much larger comes walking out after
the old man, his fists raised and yelling
“COME ON YOU FUCKING PUSSY, DONT
FUCKING PUSH ME OUT OF THE WAY”.
The old man gets up and just walks
away and walks down the street
and sits down at bus shelter.
This doesn’t seem like the typical
hipster place that I thought it would be.
that’s what I hear while riding
home in the rain from work one
“Where’s your fucking
cycling helmet, twat”.
I turn my head to see where
the voice is coming from and
see a lady jogging over the road
shaking her head at me.
“Twat” she says under her breath
as I carry on riding further
away from her.
I don’t know what to think.
Why have I effect her day so much
that she has to point out to me
that i’m not wearing a cycling
Where is she going?
Where will her run take her?
Why isn’t she wearing a high
She’s going keep on running
and I’m going to keep on riding
and she’s never going to
see me again
so it’s ok you don’t have to
worry about it because if I
fall off and crack open my
skull I’ll be thinking about
wearing a helmet next time.
I make it home and I’m still
thinking about the health
and safety jogger and I look
at my tyre and fuck I’ve
got a puncture.
Sitting on the bed looking at the wall
while my guts burn
waiting for the moment to come
when I have to run to the bathroom
just so my soul can shoot out
of my mouth.
Hours go by and still no soul
just the feeling of it sitting
down bellow like stale beer
at the bottom of a glass.
I can’t even think straight it’s just wait
I can here the news in the
people working on the road
next door neighbours moving
around their furniture.
And i’m just waiting for the
slime to make it’s appearance.
If I make it to the end of the
week will I still remember
Standing at the bar on a Friday
night, I order a bloody Mary and while
wait I can hear a conversation
behind me between
a couple of men in football shirts.
“I couldn’t believe it” one of them
“I was trying
to get the match on my computer
and the bloody internet went,
so I phoned up Virgin and they
didn’t know anything, they didn’t
help at all, they just yapped and
yapped and I told them where to
shove it, it’s supposed to be
costumer service and they didn’t
even help, fucking useless the
lot of them”.
Something started to burn inside
while I waited for my cocktail.
I kept thinking how do you think
they feel every time
you phone them up bitching and
complaining about how your day
has been inconvenienced because
you can’t get online.
Your day has been stalled for a couple
of hours so you give them a call
and they then have to sit and
listen to your shit and try and give
Everyday they listen to that type
of shit from people who’s day has
ended because they can’t get online.
No thank you.
No kind words.
Just help me the fuck out because
i’m not capable of doing it myself
that’s why it’s your fault my
internet is down.
I leave the bar and take a seat
next to my friend and I look over
at the men and I see them still
talking about his problem.
I just hope his beer is ok.
Everything seems a little
more real when the nights draw
When it’s 4:30pm and the
street lights are turning on
and everyone is driving
home from work and the brightness
from their lights almost
blinds you as they drive by.
The piecing cold touches your
face as you walk the street and
the familiar mist in front of your
face as you breath in and out.
It makes it that little more real
when you walk into a bar and
it’s a dim and poorly lit room
and the silent sound of music coming
from the jukebox
and you can hear the chatting
from around the place about how
the evenings are darker and how
they can’t wait for the summer to
come and warm the city up again.
Just that little bit more real.