The Broken State of Things
by Michael Ashley
Met a scruffy bloke today
in Bar38 on New Briggate
told me he was a Marxist
“I didn’t know they still existed”
I told him with the third gulp
of my pint rolling down my throat
“Oh yes, there’s a new movement,
haven’t you seen the tents outside St Paul’s?”
he said with all the confidence of a capitalist
“thought they were just a bunch of hippies
pissed off cos they don’t earn 6 figures
& drive a Ferrari”
I replied with all the confidence of a piss-head
at this he stood up, with a look in his eyes
like he would either cry or punch me
walked to the bar
slapped his Amex on the counter
paid and left
“fucking wannabes”
I shouted to Jack sat in the corner
“ack, nothing in this world works anymore”
he said with all the confidence of a man
who has seen the coin spin, and land flat
in the gutter of century No.21
Michael Ashley, is a 30 year old from the county of West Yorkshire in the United Kingdom, most of the time he is either working the 9 ‘til 5 or walking his dogs, but in between this [and the rest of the menial tasks that come along with life] he writes a little poetry.
Poetry Breakfast 