Beware: bad and offensive language in action.

Ok, as promised here is my poem that's been shortlisted for the Some Blind Alleys Poem Contest . It's not what I usually write about, but it came out quite naturally, so maybe I should swear in my poems more often!
Anyways, here it comes....

Lament of a doler.

I can’t listen to the radio anymore.
I turn it on on a dreary wet Sunday morning
well after 1 o’clock
and for hours I ought to imagine
kiddy fiddlers at holy communions,
dribbly masks of vice and prejudice
intoxicating my measly porridge breakfast.
As if the hangover wasn’t enough.

Then on a lazy Monday
with the perk of a dole lie-in,
still in bed while outside is pouring,
I roll over and switch it on
and I nearly gag at the voice of Pat.
What an opinionated cunt.
If he keeps denying climate change
and his snobby fat pay check
I will have to take this piece of tech
and fuck it out the window.

I cannot listen to the radio anymore.
I hate the sports’ time, I hate the traffic time
I hate the time I waste listening to these puppets
and the average callers on the Joe Duffy’s circus.
It sucks to be unemployed,
not much for the money
nor for the lack of social life,
but because all that’s left to do
is listen to these neuron-deficient messengers of dull.

I wish I was a psychopath, it’d be more fun.


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