on harridan avenue

on harridan avenue
the argument turns
on who saw the cigarette
that’s lying on the ground

it’s mine

no it’s not you’re nothing a bitch

well I lent you one yesterday

oh you’re such a liar
you never lent me anything
and now I HATE you

the trees have heard
the neighbours know
the echoes repeat the accusation
it seems a touch extreme
but a cigarette
is law
is money in the bank
is a transport to a moment of satisfaction

on harridan avenue
the girls make up
after one’s informed the staff
about what the bitch has done
and the other has screamed
to her small world
about injustice
and woe

they get on well enough
and they’re better than the third old girl
whose place
is collecting the used up stubs
of long gone butts
and begging flame
to get a light

she laughs in that old fashioned way
that you still hear
now and then
on harridan avenue

© Frank Prem, 2010

2 thoughts on “on harridan avenue

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