A Country Road. A Tree. Evening.

Set design by Gemma Lark - Gemmalark.comAaaah fuck so sorry I’m late guys

Shit don’t even get me started

Things kept popping up and missed my fucking train

I tell you the people they’ve got running public transport can’t be trusted

It’s like they’re born purely to watch me suffer over and over again, day after day

In fact what the fuck are you doing here?

I told you if I wasn’t here by 7 just to go home and I’d call you

Of course you know what happened, I couldn’t get here on time and I didn’t have your number

You know what? I pulled a few strings to see if I could get it, apparently your fucking name doesn’t even exist

I even checked the obituaries in case you’d been killed

And it hit me that your name or number or at least location may be on my phone bill

So I called in a favour from a friend to scam the system, he’ll probably get fired if they catch him but no matter just now

I got him to trace all the calls made to my phone that evening when you rang

And the only number we didn’t recognise must have been yours

Of course you called me from a fucking public phone

Who uses public phones these days anyway?

You didn’t even leave me an email or anything, don’t blame me just yet for turning up late

I didn’t have your number so I sent my boy to let you know

You know he came back and told me that you said you spent the night in a ditch?

What the fuck is wrong with you?

I told you, you could stay in my holiday house just over the hill for the night

The spare key is under the mat

Anyway, as it turned out when I said to my boy “Tomorrow! Tell them I’ll see them tomorrow!” the boy’s stupid-ass twin brother was listening and thought I meant “Tomorrow you should go and tell them that I’d see them tomorrow” which would mean Monday and I’m not the kind of dick to make a client wait around for more than two days

So anyway I told you I’d meet you on Saturday and my boy came and told you I’d see you on Sunday evening here and of course while you were waiting on Sunday the retard twin brother came and told you I wouldn’t be here til Monday

Which is just not fucking true, I’ll beat the little rat til he’s black, yellow, green and blue; that I promise you

So it’s Sunday now and I’m here and surprised you’re still here

I mean really how long have you been here?

An hour?

All day?

The whole time? More? Mother fucker what the fuck don’t you have any sense?

These are dangerous parts for weirdos with names like yours

There’s a notorious gang of ten who just hang around here ready to beat up tourists and leave them for dead

Anyway, let’s talk shop, what do you need?

Well I need something to go on, you called me after all, I arranged this meeting for both of you, I’m trying to help out, Christ, I don’t even know why I’m here

What do you need? A representative? Money? Another pair of boots?

Where the hell is your belt, you look crazy with your pants around your knees

I don’t have time for this, don’t you know who I am?

It’s like working with a child of five

My name is Mr Godot and I’ve finally arrived

I don’t need this shit, I hope you live, choke and die

Wait here for all I care, I’ll be back some other time

– Scott Sandwich

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems & Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s