FRUIT MACHINE
I withdraw my sickness
benefits from the post office
so excited
I could shit my pants.
Wetherspoons special
turkey dinner and craft beer
with a picture
of a tiger.
Everyone I love is asleep.
If they’re not asleep
they wish
they were asleep.
I don’t think about factories
in the snow
or what song my mom has
stuck in her head
when she’s scraping
early morning
ice off the car.
I don’t think about the time
my dad couldn’t explain
he just sort of
shrieked
into my shoulder.
I feed warm banknotes
into the beer-sticky slot
until they’re gone.
Later, I howl in your car.
Cold wind and rain.
Grey into grey
into grey.
My fingers
webbed with snot.
You beg me not to break
the passenger window
with my face.
Then you say
everything is going
to be okay, and that you love me,
you love me
you love me,
fruit machine
or no fruit machine.
Christ on a bike.
No one said
this
was going
to be beautiful
but, for some reason, it is.
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BOBBY PARKER‘s writing has appeared in a wide range of magazines in print and online. In 2015 he was awarded a grant from the Society of Authors. His controversial poem Thank You for Swallowing my Cum was included in the poetry anthology Best British Poetry 2015 (Salt). Bobby’s debut poetry collection Blue Movie is available now from Nine Arches Press.
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Read more by Bobby Parker
Poem at Blue of Noon
Poem at Your One Phone Call
Interview with Bobby Parker at The Quietus