Don’t need my ‘full English’ served
On a giant rectangular slab
Don’t need a dressed salad garnish
With my bacon, sausage and egg

Don’t need vine-on cherry tomatoes
Give me canned ones in juice instead
And though I’ve scoured this ridiculous slab
Can I **** find a slice of fried bread?!

And where is my builder’s tea?
English breakfast or Earl Grey’s the choice
But cutlery won’t stand up in either
I want Tetley’s, nowt else will suffice

Oh, what has happened
To the greasy spoon?
This ‘N8 Brunch’
Is loony tunes

10 of my squid
For two brittle half rashers
That crumble to dust
When faced with my gnashers

One measly egg
Yet a goblet of beans
Presented as if made
Of priceless things

Resplendent on said slab
In a vessel all of their own
Yet still I detest these things
And deign to leave them alone

And every cuppa you have
Costs an additional fee
No bottomless beverages here
No meal deal where your tipple is free

This wasn’t always the case
But gentrification is setting in
Prices soar, pretension is rife
Poshification of everything

I love London toon
Particularly Crouch End
But I’m northern at heart
And it drives me round the bend

When I’m being ripped off
Taken for a ride
Fleeced and shafted
Hung out and dried

If I pop down the road
To N22
A tenner will buy
Double the amount of food

Might not look as pretty
Might not be as ‘posh’
But at least it’s value for money
Not like detonating your dosh

Middey’s by name
****** by nature
The tiniest of fry ups
Leaves me cold by temperature

A sprinkling of rocket
Is an utter abomination
On a British institution
I can’t afford at this rate of inflation

So b*ocks to the balsamic
You sprinkled on those leaves
That didn’t belong there in the first place
Desist in future, please!

Dispense with the vegetation
The slab that should be a plate
And reinstate the greasy spoon
In my beautiful N8.

When nature calls
Thou must obey
Except when in slumber
That just isn’t ok

Suddenly you wake
And wonder why
Until you hear
Your bladder cry

The sensation creeps in
Building in strength
You try to ignore it
But it won’t relent

You turn and twist
Willing it to subside
But a swell is building
Between your thighs

With the dam about to burst
You yank yourself up
Leg it to the loo
Entreating the urge to stop

Til you’re safely in the bathroom
And can finally let go
Bleary eyed yet relieved
As you allow your *** to flow

But your problems aren’t over yet
Here’s where the real challenge comes
Will you ever get back to sleep
Now you bladder has banged it’s drum?

It’s 5 am
Dawn has started to break
You’re no longer in pain
But  you’re wide awake!

And no amount of counting sheep
Can knock you out again
And so you curse your bladder
For depriving of sleep your brain

You lie there staring at the ceiling
Lamenting your bad luck
Conclude you must admit defeat
And reluctantly get up
Way too early.

I confess I’m addicted to my phone
My observations tell me I’m not alone
For when you venture out it’s plain to see
The majority of us are glued to our screens

Whether on the tube or pushing a pram
We all have devices in our hands
Surfing the net or social networking
Everyone obsessed with being plugged in

It’s getting so bad even in company
We’re not fully there as we view our screens
And now there are warnings from TFL
Not to fall down escalators as a result of this swell

In checking our messages, writing posts
Face to face interaction up in smoke
We’d rather be alone in the cyber world
Than engaging in reality with other boys and girls

It is an epidemic that’s spreading extremely fast
Thus it seems that human contact
could become a thing of the past
No need to leave the house anymore
When everything can be ordered and delivered to your door

A society of zombies isolated could we become
If we don’t down devices and venture out into the scrum
And mingle with other beings physically there
Where we can look them in the eye
and maintain that stare

Connecting on a basic level without the aid of WiFi
And concentrating on each other
instead of being distracted by
Notifications and little beeps
Incoming communication that never sleeps

And keeps you up all night as your brain just can’t switch off
From all the incessant stimuli we’re inundated with
Time to give it a rest, take a break just for a while
Look up from your laptops and perhaps give someone a smile

Watch where you are going, don’t get yourself run over
Be present in the moment and you hopefully won’t fall over
Have a coffee with someone instead of instant messaging
Regard the world around you taking note of everything

Don’t zone out and go into a solitary trance
Assemble your tribe, spin some tunes, have a little dance
Limit your time on the World Wide Web
Grab yourself a hottie and get jiggy with them instead

I’m talking to myself
As well as anyone else
Your family and chums are precious
And deserve nothing less

Than your undivided attention
For one day there’ll come a time
When perhaps they’re no longer around
And you regret being online.

I am the Poisonous Pixie
I wield my poisoned pen
I rant and rave and contemplate
And dish the dirt on (some) men

It brings me so much joy
To vent and find expression
In rhyming words and symbolism
As I learn my daily lessons

And if we should come into contact
And you should make an impression
You too could find yourself immortalised
In a lyrical form of expression

So please be nice –
For if you’re naughty you’ll know
You’ll end up in a poem
And on my blog you’ll go

And then into a book
For all the world to see
So like I said, be nice
Or you’ll be a victim of the Poisonous Pixie!