I'm sat on a park bench in Vauxhall
Waiting for poetry tonight
A bunch of pissheads around the next one
For drunks they're rather polite.
Chatting, animated
I can't tell if they swear
It's some Eastern European lingo
That's filling the evening air.
It's loud but not aggressive
I guess they can't afford our pubs
So while the weather's good
They form little street drinking clubs.
It's strange not hearing cursing
No words like 'fuck' or 'cunt'
It doesn't get more threatening
Than a Polish or Romanian grunt.
I guess they're all unwinding
After a hard week at work
Yet if the Brexit boys are believed
All this lot do is shirk.
Well I'd rather have this lot for company
Even though I'm alone & can't follow what they say
Give me them over our racist home grown chavs
Who've never worked a single day!
Dulwich Poet 15th July 2016
(I was early for a poetry evening in Vauxhall, so sat in the park opposite the venue & wrote this about the people drinking next to me)
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