by Brackley Spurtis
Sat here looking at my screen,
Jam butties for tea, water in the bath,
Gas fire on nice and warm, I’ve got
Rubbish in the bin like shit in a toilet.
The wind is blowing the kids are screaming
And my leg is itchy.
The radios on, Terry Wogan's not,
Birds flying passed the window, are they
Bastards or wot.
Wax in my ears, get it out, get it out.
Having a kit kat very nice, life’s cruel, so is my
Granny
by Brackley Spurtis
Copper pipes, lead pipes down the tube to London, Aunties lost her knickers where oh where?
Tobacco up my nose, running red like ketchup.
The fish is wriggling, smack it with abundance
Cowpat on your shoes like pulp pulp pulp.
Do you want some porridge or shall I put it on the fire?
The steam is rising clouding all my judgement,
The fog is thick like sick, sick, sick.
by Brackley Spurtis
Foot steps on the ceiling,
Cobwebs over the door,
Me dad’s snoring, me Mam’s not here.
Where are all the dead people,
Are they shopping in the Spar?
Jumble sales, doctor’s surgery
Pills, potions and meat pies.
Skin em alive with me knife and fork.
What’s that there? Hard skin?
What’s that there? Oh it’s only
Jim!
By Brackley Spurtis
I live on the ceiling and sleep on the floor,
I cook in the toilet and pee by the door,
My hands are just stubs and my feet are real smelly,
My mother eats termites on fried bread with jelly.
I eyes are so tired I really need glasses,
I want to see crossroads with maids and whiplashes,
My skin is so itchy I cannot keep still,
This fuckin’ psoriasis is making me ill.
My head’s in a mess though I’m taking my pills
I just can’t remember my name it won’t come,
Could it be Rachel, Rebecca ,Miss Ellie
Or Sabrina, Miranda, Othello, Bottechelli!
Please help me O Lord I want to feel good,
I want drive cars, have pizza, chop wood,
My life’s so depressing I just want to kill,
Those ordinary people who live on the hill.
