Feeding a Habit In Woolworths (pick and nick) - circa 1984  

We were both full of self loathing in East Ham

High Street.  Actually, thinking it over, we should have swapped 

this disposition with each other, a psychological exchange 

and mart: me hating you, you hating me; clinically healthier.

  

I’m out in the cold kicking a crushed Benson and Hedges 

packet against Woolies window, waiting, kicking my heels, forever 

waiting for you to come out, a radio or two under yer coat, pockets 

stuffed with lavender piss perfumes and gold coloured rings.  

I’ll be ready to stumble into the cod-faced security guard floundering 

at yer soles until me and he collide and we both take a tumble, hit

the pavement with all the gravity of discarded pie and chips; squashed 

stake and kidney with a trickle of gravy.

Me and my bruises will meet you later down the pub, 

knock it out cheap, divvi-up for at least a bag each, then rush 

home for a real self loathing treat.

© 2007. P.A.Levy

First published by Writing Raw 2011