( )

(             )
The miss
and hit
ink pink
pen and stink
gutter pressing the need
to blame someone else
(as in “them”)
for the mess-

Telling tales of
strong and stable
bottom feeders
reeling in
net profits
of more than
Joe Blogger
could ever dream of
in a month of
Monday mornings
down at the food bank
queuing to get in

The early bird
gets the tweet
the not so sweet
story of the Joneses
not keeping up with the rent:
the bent (as in crook-ed)
-won’t you buy me-
cruising down
Queer (as in stony broke) Street
to slap an eviction order
on Mrs Jones’ face

Meanwhile rich tea dunking
stick jolly hockeys
into pies:
turn into
turns into
Banksy style
under the
not red carpet

Snug as a bug
the book with a Face
grins Cheshire cat like
licking the cream
from the mouths of babes

“And really you know
we’d all be safe as houses”
(as in privately owned)
if “they”
(as in “I’m not racist but..”)
had never been allowed
the first place

Over at the night garden
everything is
back slapping Jack
(as in “I’m alright but
my neighbours need to go” )
snorts a gram of Insta likes
safe in the knowledge
that it’s his way or
no way
(as in “José”
on the wrong side
of the wall)

I-playing pranks
on folk
who think that Apples grow
on trees
(as in taken and
put in a tree museum):
Wile E
Canis Atrans
howls into the wind:
the story of an ice age
that falls on burning ears
(as in mine)
(as in yours)

As in
we are all
in this together
there is
no us
or them





©  Bex Tate
Image: Street Art Palma de Mallorca (Photo Bex Tate)


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