I wake with a jolt
Bolt upright in bed;
Both bell-shaped ears clanging
Either side of my metal alarm clock head.
Caricatured in a comic-book world
Of sketched in pillow and sheet,
I think out loud, as a speech bubble balloons;
“Bloody ’ell! A working week!”
That ruddy routine and rigmarole;
Striped pyjamas stripped off, shave n shower,
Clothes, coffee and cornflakes,
Breakfast T.V. on the hour.
Whereupon, I foulmouth the boss;
The outsized miniature Mussolini!
His fat-faced ugly mug (pinned-up) gets it
As does Il Duce’s fat-arsed effigy.
The wage-earner’s wrath! The employer’s revenge!
My poor piggy-bank : not in the pink.
Thanks to a tin-pot, battle-weary salary
My artillery reduced to a coin-clink.
Whatever, with eight-thirty a.m.
I pull on my pullover, ready to roll.
The N.I. numbers multiply.
I add myself and go.