Poems for the zooted and the zonked

Little Stars

 Little Stars haha

I flip through old plastic sheets, the glaze of the laminated sleeves glimmering as I turn each page

An old scrap-book of pictures from my time at play-school

I look at myself in those pics

The light hair, bulging eyes, O what you've become, you little shit

The anvil that's about to be dropped on you

The beatings you're finna take

Savour those raisins

Life back then was a life of potent playfulness and stimulating zest

Now it is like a tired old slag you know too well

Too knee deep in the bullshit to try and save yourself

But the feats of strength I can now perform do hit the spot

And the coffee in the mornings tastes bitter and familiar

And the cigarettes out the window at night bitter and familiar

And the girls be looking hot af

But it's whatever.