hell mend you for not understanding never understanding not even trying to understand what you must understand for fuck’s sake what’s wrong with you
hell mend you for blustering boor swaggering your suit dragged through deranged pocketing our all
hell mend you for locking us up sending us south your cankerous finger cocked up roaching castigating
hell mend you for the gape of our shoes the scruff of our skirts our out of data again mum please mum please
hell mend you for our sour milk spilt our foodbank snake it’s you again alright love same as usual love recoiling
hell mend you for our pushed out bellies our pus piped gums our coughs to the beat your filch of our guts
hell mend you for your mildew your fires that moulder that crackle that slay sorry missus nothing else available
hell mend you for burning not burying not even a lily a wake never enough for anything not even a passing
hell mend you for the new blue dress the red tissue paper the white box the dress the paper the box the colour of our war
This poem has been published in GRUB, one of four pamphlets in the Four Letter Word (FLW) project. The project is artists responding to poverty, the climate crisis, and worldwide inequality that the pandemic has brought into sharper relief. The series consists of four limited edition printed pamphlets each containing 25 texts/artworks by different writers and artists. The full purchase price will go to four charities dealing with these issues. You can buy one or more of the pamphlets here.
The image is Banksy’s mural Slave Labour.
SANDERLINGS 