He in tracksuit
Singlet showing tatts
She in tight jeans
Crop top and plats
Accessorised with
Baby in pram wearing
A Hawthorn beanie
Both smoking
He asking for change
She swearing at the kid
To stop crying
I try not to judge
Got a train to catch
They get on and it starts
I get on ahead
But they move from
Carriage to carriage
Begging change
Or Cigarettes
Or beer
In my carriage
They find someone
They know
Who gives them grief
Some deal gone wrong
Money gone astray
Reputations trashed
But she bites first
Calling the accuser
A farken carnt
And you weeeek carnt
Then he chimes in
With yooor a rat mate
A dirty farken rat
Fark you the accused says
How bout I farken
Stab your arse
Cum on, she says,
Afraid to use your fists
You farken weeeek carnt
Accused says yeah, yeah I am,
Bogan boy says
Cmon, bring it on
You farken dog
You’re a gutless carnt
You farken rat
You weeeek dog
And the train rattles on
Riddled with hate
And impotent rage
Carrying its cargo
To the city.
© shaun patrick green 2011
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