smoking together

in the street

whilst their children sit in prams

children,
either,

GLASS EYED, LOOKING OUT
TO THE FUCKING GREY VOID

or

SHOUTING SCREAMING KICKING

and the mothers talk to share their problems.

moan about the situations they’ve put themselves in.
the men they’ve married. the people
who
won’t
the nerve of some people. listen
the mistakes
O T H E R
people are making.

and then the answers,

the well you know why, don’t you’s
you know why
you know why

these are
the rationales
and armchair philosophies
that they are left with

on which they base their successes
and failures

and
are
GOING
to be
passed
down
to
their
ki d s

passed down
through slanging matches
one morning as they get ready for school,

a domestic early evening
whilst

‘Who wants to be a Millionaire’

pulses darkly in the background,

and late night drunk father starts
smashing up a kitchenette stool,

and the youngest girl returns home from a weekend sleep over,

and starts crying

sniffs and weals through her lost virginity

and the PEARLS of WISDOM are passed on

like a virus spreading
through

the scraps of life