Chancer

(Sweary Poetry)

 

Loud Cardiffian,

what we would once call a ruffian

on a boat out of Penarth Marina

called ‘Chancer’

Arrogant twat in a mack with a wife

and dog, a Jack.

Russell bestrode the nautical boulevard like a Colossus

with a T Shirt “Kill or be Killed”

The body language of a man who slumped on the grassy knoll

two bottles of red wine and a beaker from Subway.

A Lamborghini parked under CCTV

The gated community had turned their flats into a prison

with a fat concierge called Larry.

“Oh this Happy Band”

and there’s me judgemental Johnny behind sunglasses

mentally marking all human beings out of ten for kindness and empathy.

Lot of zeros this morning but then again it’s early

They haven’t had their coffee and croissant.

A car’s exhaust bursts the ear drums as you run out of road.

Turn back, go the other way, whistle down the wind.

The young hate the old and the lonely.

I don’t feel horny any more.