Vector8 Journals

Saturday, November 13, 2004

Her Next Door

Her next door - she’s got a cat
Keeps coming to our place
Great fat thing, it looks at me
With a smirk upon it’s face.
When my missus isn’t looking
I clout it round the ear,
Well, I try to - but I can’t y’see
I can’t get bloody near.
It always hears me coming
And scoots off bloody quick.
One time I threw my boot at it
And once, a half house brick.
It catches little sparrows
And chews them on our grass,
If only I was quicker
I’d kick it up the arse.
Of course, it’s her next door, y’know,
She tells it what to do
‘Tom’, she says,’Go over there- and piddle in his shoe.’
She don’t like me, and that’s a fact,
And neither does her cat,
But I don’t care, I’ve got more hair
And I’m nowhere near as fat.

By Lincoln Wakefield

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