Oh No, It’s The Poetry Police… Quick Run!

Diamonds are NOT forever…
I know this woman
who works at Cash Converters,
and they get 90% more
engagement and wedding rings
than any other piece of jewellery.
You know when the City Centre’s
gone to the dogs
when you can pay prostitutes
with coins instead of notes,
and pocket-dippers
are tailing street musicians
for their busking licences.
It’s £22.98 for two adults
to watch a movie at The Flicks,
sod that, we’d rather get drunk,
eat 99 pence burgers,
and watch the Spice
ghosts and zombies
melting into imbeciles,
whilst sat upon
the anti-homeless benches
opposite the riot vans
of a sunny Saturday afternoon.
I witnessed Japanese tourists
throwing food to the inland seagulls,
they attacked in numbers,
like feathered pit bulls,
but instead of running
they decided to try calming them
by feeding more…
blood on beaks and sky mayhem.
I laughed so hard
I got a ‘Disturbing The Peace’
shove and verbal warning
from a man in uniform
who’s paid to protect me.
So we went and hung-out
in the foyer of the Methadone Clinic,
where we got nostalgic
with one of the four Security Guards,
about football violence,
clap cards
fish hooks in coat collars,
and metal coat hangers
replacing the old school cane.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer, who’s currently up to his elbows in Magic, and long may it remain this way. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.