in the car-empty precinct
a can bounces across
tumbleweed tarmac
is kicked again fiercely
hands in pockets three lads watch
it rattles the weary wind
they make no move to catch
there’ll be other cans
gies yir phone ah’ve nae credit
no choice but to be here either
his ma’s boyfriend is staying drinking
in the corner telly on loud
house full of money worries
and coughing
he doesn’t know about the lessons
piled up on his school website
hasn’t a computer or cash
to feed the leccy meter
Above boarded up shops
scrawny seagulls observe and
learn as foxes stalk plump cats
.
Finola Scott
Depressingly good Finola
Comment by Mary Wilson on 5 August, 2020 at 12:30 pm