Super tramps

The bearded man in his cardboard home

Stared as the flames licked the side of the barrel

He fingered the bottle in his hand

Like a dead man it lay

Empty

Bereft of life

As useless as he felt inside

He threw a look and tentatively spoke

This life is wasting us

Let’s get out

Be super tramps again

Get back on the Telly.

Make loads of money

A house in the country

Holidays in warm climes

His friend sucked in his toothless gums

Shook a dead mouse from his flies

Coaxed the last dregs of booze

From the heel of an old shoe

Swept his tongue round his chin

Captured the dregs that thought to run

A dreamy smile sparkled his eyes

He travelled down memory’s lane

He could smell the scampi taste the champagne

For a while it had been his holy grail

Waving the ragged arm of his coat

He had relieved a scarecrow of in a turnip field

He balled his fists

The drink has befuddled your brain old friend

Become notorious citizens again?

Devoured by the media at every turn

Throat as dry as a gravel pit

He shook his head decisively

Go if you must but leave me be