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Array
(
[sid] => 173914
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Afterall paradise is only a scratchcard away
[time] => 2012-09-30 13:50:22
[hometext] => rough draught
[bodytext] => A terraced row on a sweaty afternoon birds with cracked beaks whistle out of tune mating in the gutter, fluttering after one another kettles are steaming, gas is hissing from cookers catchphrase at 7, crackers without butter for supper twitching eyes peering through a wooden shutter listening to every word this restless estate mutters board the morning bus fidget in a dirty seat morning slumber and a troll-like style of speech listless admist the flies, dandruff and damp reek of the number 27 passing through stickley street the mind stutters, visions overlap, its images are bleak its too demoralizing to contemplate its too tedious to mention and even if I had to balls to say no I'd have no-ones attention so it's not by choice it's simply by habit they promised me opportunity but they won't let me have it A monobrow on a mono-rail hands are mangled, faces pale a lingering sense of despair hangs restlessly in the air Tower block, joes barren mind and his moms swolen liver watch the lump inside the sleeping bag begin to shiver broken glass, broken bones, broken homes there's more inside you than you've ever shown well neighbour, people like us who were caught lobbing eggs at that bus are dismissed and despised in scarcely a glance take my hand have a cigarette, just give me a chance maybe I'll turn my life around on giro day afterall, paradise is only a scratchcard away [comments] => 1 [counter] => 228 [topic] => 21 [informant] => flavellm [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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