The Budget
I’m from the north and from the south
I like the taste of pizza dough
The sugar highs may curl my mouth
The library is shut you know
Don’t care, I never read the books
A Christmas Carol, not for me
No-one in the family cooks
The food banks give us tins for free
The cars and lorries jam the streets
The zero contract does my head
They said he was a man called Keats
I’d rather read my phone instead
I watch the litter silt the square
And add some more to keep it rank
There’s a funny smell inside the air
The card I drew was dull and blank
I bought these in a hospice shop
They’re loose, pull down. I wear my cap
Across my eyes, and I don’t stop
When men like that stand up to rap
My nan is waiting in the line
She can’t afford to die at all
There’s nothing here that I call mine
I knock my head against the wall
I saw him up on Asda’s shelves
I saw him talking through his lips
I saw him on TV at twelve
My friend has found a bag of chips
Work next week, I wouldn’t know
I might not hang around or wait
I’d like to come but I can’t go
What does he mean, the interest rate?
