What’s That Fucking Chair Doing There? by Paul Tristram

Didn’t you find it remotely weird?
Slightly odd even, that there’s a wooden chair
all out of place and by its lonesome,
sitting with its back to the wall?
Whatcha mean, you just thought
that someone had momentarily left it there?
Gone off for a cup of Rosie Lee
and a fag-break, I suppose,
after carrying the one chair
halfway across a yard… who does that, eh?
Stop saying ‘Well, There Was No One About’
in that whiny fucking voice of yours.
Of course, there was no cunt about…
in between the sneaky little fucker
who placed it there
and the three ‘Lags’ who then bolted
full-pelt at it and used it as a springboard.
The dogs had better catch ‘em, son,
or the Guvnor’s gonna want your balls on a platter.
Use your brain, you fucking numpty,
I’ve seen them scrambling up
cracked and crumbling brickwork
like tattooed fucking monkey-rats.
Nothing rests against that wall… ever!
Not a broom handle or rubbish bin…
if there’s so much as an upturned bucket
unaccounted for in this bastard yard
I want to hear about it, Ok, sun-fucking-shine!

Paul Bars
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1943170096 ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1326241036 And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope at http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1326415204 You can also read his poems and stories here! http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/
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