‘Last Night's TV At A Glance'

To the gates of society you stride, with a fountain pen
To appropriate so eloquently all that we can't express

A sole clear voice from lumpen masses too muffled for coherence -
At least that's what this glowing literary sensation said

What makes you believe that you can write
Superior lines about my life?

At the doors of the local Echo you lurk, with a Woolworths laptop
Some alcoholic dribbled vague words about a desk job

Once a month you might get to see your name in print
Some lunch break at the chip shop, resplendent in grease-smudged ink

What makes you believe that you can write
Superior lines about my life?

How can you imagine I need
You to do my talking for me?

 

© M.A.Tovey 2006