pushing their babies
With their bums out
and their tits out
Their attitudes out… on display
Furry bomber jackets
With their midriffs showing… in winter.
Like it means something,
When really it means nothing at all
Just a space filler
Shouting that they’ve got fuck all to say.
Pony tails bobbing high on their heads,
Their phallus, a penis,
A symbol, that they’re rock solid
Ignoring the screams of their soiled dirty children
In their soiled dirty pushchairs
with pierced noses.
and un-breakfasted babies
make-up to hit the streets
To bob and posture and preen
Fag-it girls with fifty pence meters
And third floor flats at seventeen
teaching fuck all to their children
Like it means something.