Scurrying back and forth,
let me estimate my worth
I don’t have a job
so around bins I skulk and rob
to eat enough to live
and the world my children give
It’s a hard existence
with the petty persistence
of the screaming woman
who gets the bar showman
to jump up and down
without a frown
and try to squash me
when I’m just
as beautiful as can be.
If you enjoyed this, try ‘Hurley Burley Whirlies’, my fun poem on sex and the scariness of love.
