
Afta the final warnin
I woz late agen.
Straight up the office,
tol em I neally topped myself,
tol em I wuz on medication,
tol em I wuz further down
than they could imagine,
deeper than rats an sewers.
No arguin, put me on gardnin leave :
all theyer papers, my life in numbers.
Gardnin? I int got no garden,
on'y weeds in-a yard.
Leave me with-a dandelions
like a bee drunk on pollen.
Afta the final warnin,
a cracked concrete future.