Crusty
All I had was bread.
I put the slices in,
stood there
listening to it hum
for maybe ten seconds
when the slices
shot back up
and the radio died
and the lights went out.
I run into the others
on the landing,
waving torches at me
in the dark.
‘The fuse’s bust,’
one said
squatting at the box
‘whaja do?’
‘Nothin,’ I told them
‘just put the toaster on.’
They start screeching
at me
their faces like pumpkins,
orange and pointed
in the torch light
about how
toasters are one of
the most common causes
of fuses busting.
I leave them fiddling,
feel my way back to my room
lock the door
and blink in the dark.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
2pm At The Earliest
They took on this bloke,
Martin.
They put him
on the checkout
in front of mine.
I see him
whenever my queue moves along,
those fluffy grey folds
on the back of his neck,
the worn tattoos
on his inner arms,
the mid-section like a tire
sitting there slumped.
He turns
checking the clock
to see when lunch is
showing me his profile:
the shapeless outline
of defeated meat.
I tell my bosses,
you can’t do this to me
I’m staring into my future
it’s not fair
they tell me
they took Martin on
when they let go of Sharon,
Sharon complained too much
and now she’s on dole.
I get the message
and go back to my checkout
back to my future
waiting for lunch, always
waiting for lunch
forever more.
Tanner's new chapbook Alright, Squire? is out now from Last Chance Before Bath-time Publications, price £1.99 for 21 poems. The blurb describes Tanner as "accessible, a punk spokesman of a society lost in the dark. Witty, funny as hell; Tanner’s Beat is a fresh Beat, dance to it.
