Oi! Poem by Nick Burbridge

City boy, city boy. Last week,
across the square, took on a phonebox:
put my fist right through the glass & laughed.
Saturday tonight, pissed up, pole-axed on a bench.

Here’s how I put the city in my mouth:
sink my teeth into its flesh. Burnt shreds
ooze over my fingers onto leather.
I taste smoke & dirt.

There is no earth,
and no animal.
In these stale streets
only television.

Stagger to the plastic bar.
Puke in the early hours. Sleep it off.
Look in the mirror: cult figure.
Wrists stained in blood, no, sauce