Slips on his Cross of St George Undies,
Resists urge to scratch new facial tattoo,
Laces up his old steel toecap boots,
Takes black Harrington off hallway hook,
Doesn’t give washing up a second look,
This most ancient throwback bovver boy,
Ignorant and forever angry,
Is off to local rubber-dub-dub
To baaa baaa with his flock of white sheep,
Once a skinhead always a skinhead,
He is Millwall and no-one likes him,
And he proudly says he doesn’t care.
Drives off on his vintage chromed Lambretta,
As his wife moves her suitcase to front door.

Harry Rogers in the Red Bedroom 1st February 2023

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