Caravan Banshee by Paul Tristram

We’ve locked her in the fucking thing!
Disconnected the Calor Gas bottles
and moved them over by the hedgerow.
Barricaded the windows on the outside
(I know, this is getting fucking ridiculous!)
with wooden pallets and scaffolding poles.
We’re waiting to see if she calms down slightly?
She nearly blinded Dai
when he peered in through a vent
with a shattering glass ashtray.
He said that she was kneeling on the mattress,
in a puddle of her own piss,
shredding the fucking thing up like a hamster
with her teeth, fingernails
and a broken Bacardi bottle.
She burnt Plot 24 to the ground a month ago,
after blowing up Mr Shagrat’s van full of tat.
We’re gonna have to giver her marching orders
and get her off site…
every time the crazy fucker ovulates
it’s like World War III ‘round yuh…
she causes more fucking damage than the Heddlu.

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) ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope at You can also read his poems and stories here!

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