Scumbag

Reality has been good to me

I’m the king of daytime

The Staffy on the sofa

You don’t like me do you?

But you can’t look away

Fiddled the dole?

Cheated on your wife?

Have a spare bedroom going free?

Your pitiful life is good telly

But you knew that already

Colourful and lardy

You blow up reliably

In a low-rent way

Like a rat sniffing a drain

I can detect your frailty

I’ll put you through ringer

I’ll hang out your washing

While it’s still dirty

I’ll betray you for money

I feed on the rage and pathos

Of your everyday tragedy

I’m a chip shop bully

The creepy guy you met on a holiday

A gobshite with a degree

I’m a peeping Tom, a scumbag

A pimp, a connoisseur of misery

Reality has been good to me

Welcome to Doggerland

Before the Ice Age, some early hominids
crossed the land bridge and entered the UK.
Soon, they were nostalgic for Africa.
It was too dull, so they went away.

The Romans tried next
but they didn’t like it here:
‘Can’t grow olives. It won’t work
We’ll have another go next year.’

It was the same with the Angles
the Saxons, the Picts and the Jutes
They came and did stuff
but they never put down roots.

The Vikings cruised down the River Lee
looking for something to sack.
There was nothing much happening
so they turned round and sailed back.

At Hastings, it was William one, Harold nil.
William could easily have been king
‘Have my coronation in London?’
he said. ‘You must be flipping joking!’

Here is a brief vox pop survey:
Their food is awful. The colours are boring
You can’t get proper coffee
It’s too flat. The weather’s appalling

Let’s face it, we came last in the lottery
of climate and geography.
Iron ore and coal is what we have.
The rest is misery.  Always was, always will be