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I wish I was a chav (Free verse) by Stephen Robins I wish I was a chav,
Then, instead of wearing tweed,
I'd have a tracksuit bespoken,
And smoke the finest weed.
I would speak to McDonald's,
About a burger with fois gras,
I would eat it in the centre of town,
Whilst shouting out "hurrah".
I would drink my daily Pimms,
Directly from the bottle,
I'd put a spoiler on my car,
And depress the throttle.
I'd turn up at the tennis club,
And shout and swear a lot,
When asked to leave, I'd start a fight,
And depart upon my yacht.
I would wear training shoes,
When not even playing sport!
Three ladies I'd make pregnant,
And would not my spawn abort.
I would have to change my name,
To something fun like Wayne,
I'd tattoo my body with Burberry,
And holiday in Spain.
Up the ladder:
What is a poet
Down the ladder:
Twin Forks
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 8.0
Posted: August 1, 2006 8:32 AM PDT; Last modified: August 1, 2006 8:32 AM PDTWeighted score: 5.806824 Overall Rank: 1680 Comments:
This is quite possibly the best thing you've written. Stanza 5 made me fall off my chair laughing. Maybe 'tracksuit' would be more accurate as 'shellsuit'?
You know, a lack of McDonald's nearby means that the gathering place for chavvage is the bench outside 7-11, or, latterly, the bike racks outside Tesco. A most shining nine -bow'ls-
I once lived on the Isle of Dogs in a penthouse flat. During my occupancy I had to pass a "parade" of shops. Without fail they congregated outside the Paki shop and called me a cunt on my way home. It is difficult to see who has had the last laugh as they never really knew what they were missing out on and they got to hang out of the back of fourteen-year-old girls without fear of repurcussion, it was what was expected of them. I, on the other hand, am expected to become a pillar of society, yet I spend half my life writing foul poetry about women's poons.
Unless you're of a certain 'alternative' mindset, hanging out of the back of 14 year-old chav girls only has a limited appeal. Pillars of society, however, find themselves with wide vistas of opportunities to meet higher-class girls. Besides, if you become a chav, you then limit yourself to White Lightning. No opportunities for Pimm's and lemonade. If nothing else sways you, that will*
On a completely unrelated note, I demand that you resurrect the Celebrity Scoring method. If this isn't quite worthy of an Ainslee, I'd still rate it as Dave Benson-Phillips. *no pun intended.
I should say more of post-death Martin Luther-King. The colour really drains out of those big blubbery cheeks.
Oooh--a new term! They didn't cover this in any of the Sophie Kinsella books I've read (I have appalling taste in 'literature,' and almost everything I know about British pop culture comes from terrible Brit-chick-lit novels). I've identified a few Chavs here at work, even (although the hip-hop wannabe element is lacking, so I guess they're not true Chavs).
Wikipedia has way too much documentation on the phenomenon (all of which you've nailed): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chav
a ending would be nice.
You are quite right, I agonized over some form of culmination. Something like:
Having exchanged Surrey for Hull, And Waitrose for Asda, I've grown a wispy moustache, And gone joyriding in a mazda. 309 view(s)
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I had a feeling she was depressed and made her some earl grey but the ungrateful girl at least was being comforted by Edgar.
Edgar is my only child from my first wife Lai-Longtime from Thailand.
Nice poem it reeled me in my boy.