Very Nasty Builder
Very Nasty Builder
Drunk builder is out for trouble.
Like a soldier with a grudge and a loaded rifle.
Been on the piss after work.
Still wearing dirty ripped clothes and steel boots.
Your tool bag looks heavy.
And you look lethally handy.
Remember, tools can kill.
His mate says, be good, as he puts you on the 180 Manchester bus.
Our driver failed to protect us.
Don’t let the drunk on.
Too late!
Hi sweet, can I sit next to you, he goes to the bird in front of me. No!
She won’t move her bag.
Her dyed red hair belies her determination.
Upstairs the builder goes to raise hell.
He comments, I don’t like migrants, and it goes from there.
Louder and louder he screams in a pissed up rage.
It gets physical.
Other guy groans. Hurting.
Asian man stumbles downstairs.
I see him limp and massage his hand.
Facial bruising?
He wants me to save him.
Looks at me with searching eyes.
You, who the drunk builder hurt.
You’re on your own.
A well dressed business man who needs to learn what the other side’s like and deal with it.
Take up karate.
Violent drunken builder gets off the bus.
A guy who was ripped off by the bus fare cost wants my reaction too, on the ticket price.
What would you think if you knew what happened?
Later, I tell you. Everywhere I go I see things.
Like what you did.
The pretty vet lady opposite me knows the drunk tradesman.
Not seen him for a year, she says.
A black guy told her, you should of calmed him down.
Bus driver calls the cops but they don’t come.
He confiscates a fierce looking hammer.
Like taking a toy car off a stroppy child.
Onwards we go, to Manchester.
Me to my poem night.
White Anglo Saxon man will save and destroy our damn world, all on CCTV.
nick armbrister
Mon 3rd Feb 2014 14:15
no mate. was on the way to poem night.