He would shop in his slippers
And stink like a huge sweating ball bag,
He said a house without pens
Was like a whore without holes,
His house smelt of cheap steak and dog hair,
The kids called him ‘paedo’,
He was broken like plates in a skip.

On Tuesdays he’d watch Ironside DVDs,
Drink a tin of carnation milk
And make murals from old newspapers,
On Wednesdays he’d stare at photos for hours,
Pick his toes and write letters
To food manufacturers,
Sometimes he’d cry into mirrors.

The song ‘Seven Days’ by Craig David
Made him feel so unloved and jealous
That he snapped the CD he’d bought
(After being recommended it by a shop assistant)
And threw it into a neighbour’s garden,
‘How can one man lead such a life’, he growled;
None of his photo albums had pictures of women in.


9 Responses to “Broken”

  1. russian billy Says:

    great dark,deep,mysterious,its me!-i feel so unloved!

  2. The first stanza was a lot of fun to read. I like how it drew me into the story through an immediate attempt of frustration through your words.
    I liked this quite a bit..
    “He said a house without pens
    Was like a whore without holes”

    An interesting glimpse into an odd fellows life. A nice conclusion as well.
    I like these new poems you’ve posted recently. Nice work.

  3. “He said a house without pens
    Was like a whore without holes”
    ha! no shit, huh?
    that is clever fun.

  4. Yeah, pretty clever.

  5. Thanks Alicia and Evelyn – May I hasten to add that the poem is in no way autobiographical 😉

  6. Beatrice Miller Says:

    My first visit to the site….I like this poem, it didn’t take many lines/words to give me a strong impression of the character.

  7. dunstancarter Says:

    Glad you liked. Cheers for stopping by. Come again.

  8. I’m glad to read in the previous comments this is not autobiographical, it sounded rather pity and scary to live such a life … and I know there are many broken and unloved people … Thanks by the way for the nice comments you left at my blog and sorry for the late return visit …Regards from Athens …

  9. Dennis Carter Says:

    Such a richly realised portrait of despair.

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