Block twat

 

 

 

In every block of flats, I found

a twat appeared
who seemed designed
to cause persistent suffering
for vulnerable unfortunates
within an earshot’s range.

 

From varied means
these agents chose:

Some, thudding bass
through concrete walls.

Or loud TV’s, plus shouting.

Drilling, banging, barking.

Sawing wood at 4 am.

I’ve heard all those, and more.

 

Thus peace was wrecked
for neighbours
left to cope
unhelped.

 

 

Then nicer tenants
were replaced
by others
less considerate.

Till few remained
who’d halt a slow
descent.

 

 

Aside from daydream’s hope
or fantasized revenge

one can only seek
new homes, and flee.

Yet knowing twats may follow

(if they aren’t already there).

 

 

 

So social housing
wears me down.

I’m stuck here.

Ill.
Alone.

 

An unloved, friendless, pain-filled grind.

(Add crushing insignificance.
And never getting laid.)

 

Given time, perhaps
such burdens
might suffice
at breaking spirit?

 

 

But being forced
to fret
each ruined year

as life declines

tormented
by a group

of idiots.

 

 

 

It’s things like that

which really

twist

 

the knife.

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

(2010)

 

---

 

Hi everyone!

 

Please note:

I grew up (in England) employing the word twat as synonym for an annoying person.
But I’m not sure if that usage is so prevalent in the USA?
Apologies for any confusion.

 

My old prose has morphed toward poetry, during editing, again.

Art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it?

 

Comments are always very VERY welcome  😁 !

 

Thank you all for reading.

 

---

(anxiety / art / blog / blogging / depression / illness / life / mental health / poem / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )

Advertisement