the weekly


I don’t care who lives next door

I don’t like their airs and graces

I don’t know their names for sure

I don’t really know their faces


When the postman leaves a parcel

When he asks me for assistance

I remind him it’s my castle

Let next door keep plenty distance


Being neighbourly? I scotch it

First it’s sugar, then the mower

Neighbourhood Watch? I say, watch it

Mind my back, my name is Noah


I don’t like all this community

I’d have their land in a trice

Gaza is an opportunity

Jerusalem’s not very nice


One is Sunni, one is Shia

One is Christian, one a Kurd

One is farther, one is near

I don’t understand a word


I don’t care what cost or price is

I just want my perfect plot

I am Taliban or Isis

Are we innocent or not?


Last night President Obama’s

Friends came calling with a drone

I don’t care for his pyjamas

Leave me to take what I own



Click here for a story in The Independent

Click here to buy Bill’s poetry collection Ringers

Click here to follow Bill’s New Statesman research



A YouGov survey found that most people don’t know their neighbours, and many didn’t want to. There was a similar report last year, in fact. And the year before. This one also said the friendly North was a myth! I bet Southerners wrote it. Or Easterners.

13 August 2014


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