Man oh man be kind, don’t be so mean
Leave for me a scrap, don’t lick it clean
Men of toiled hands, creasy worry face
My home is not forest, but this urban space
I love yer food so tasty, spicy, fried in oil
Peck at everything, even your bowel’s spoil

Man oh man be kind, don’t be so harsh
Leave a little space, my space is sparse
Men of busy walks, bushy knitted brow
My home is not forest, here only I grow
I love yer food so tasty, but it ain’t a shame
Pick up everything, even your spit and phlegm

Man oh man be kind, kindly look at me
Leave a little love, I love your company
Men fair and dark, having or lacking grace
My home is not forest, I live at your address
I love yer food so tasty, crunchy salty sweet
Pounce at everything, your waste becomes my treat

Man oh man be kind, I ensure your place don’t rot
Pay me your sight a little, spare me a kind thought
Men of all shades, all religion cast and creed
My home is not forest, your space is what I need
I love yer food so tasty, the smell when you unwrap
I’ll gleefully pick up, my friend’s throwaway scrap

Man oh man be kind, don’t feign you don’t care
I’m your all season mate, comrade of all weather
Men of generous souls, broad and golden heart
My home is not forest, I love to be your part
I love yer food so tasty, baked or fried in oil
Throw for me a crumb, a scrap for all my toil

Her nose turned up
She looked aside
Whether I struck a cord or fell on deaf ears
We could always wonder
Though it seems easier to just trust in yourself
And remember your tea tastes better

I didn’t watch you for long,
I cycled off at the lights.

for a moment I saw you walk
from just outside Nando’s to

the other side of the road by
the traffic light, not quite

on the crossing. carrying
a paper bag of greasy kebab

and limping. wiping hands on
those creasy trouser legs and

limping. limping. limping. not
a new limp, you’ve had that

forever. not a just-fell-over
limp. not a sprained-my-ankle

limp. you were born like that,
weren’t you? one leg longer by

an inch. or maybe one foot
an elephant’s swollen stump.

ankle bent inwards at the
bone, grown like a golf club.

you drag it behind but always
keep it close. it is yours after all.

I didn’t watch you for long,
I cycled off at the lights.

WHHHHHEEEEEEEE!!!
Look at my brilliant legs!