Pride was a joke belched out
by blokes that sucked
on roll ups down the pub
whilst women waited home for dosh -
with hungry kids asleep
beneath a pile of threadbare coats.
Cash in hand was what it was; cash
in his instead of hers.
Wherefore art thou friendly star? Guiding him,
his belly full of beery cheer
and backhand fists a-ready at the slightest hint
of fuss. Be silent lest your 'love'
should be returning from that other world,
knowing what for; who's who, and you
forever in the dark.