A collection of poems and other writings...

Monday 17 March 2014

London Overspill

I was something of a snob, I fear, when I was small...

When Michael Nichols
came to school
he called Mrs Higham
Miss
because
he was London Overspill
and he didn't know.

He lived at
Ten Acres
where the new houses
were,
and the bus picked him up at the end of his road
before
us,
so when I got on
he was sitting in
my seat.

He went and sat there on the way home too.

So I sat next to
my seat.

And he told me to watch out for his foot
because
when someone stood on it
it turned green.

But I did not
believe him.

So I stood on it
sitting down.

And he hit me.

On the nose.

It was a real
London hit
with his fist.

And I started bleeding
so I scraped at him
with my fingers,
and I scratched his face.

Then we were both crying

And John
did not know what to do to stop us
but he kneeled up
on the seat in front
and watched.

When I got home
Mum said I should not fight
and I said
I was not fighting
but she knew I was
so then I cried again
and said I would not go to school ever again.

She said
I should say to him
Look what you've done to my eye,
because he was London Overspill

and he was probably
upset
too.

So the next day
he was sitting in my seat
again
and I didn't want to
but I said
Look what you've done to my eye.

It was all blue and puffy.

And he said
well you've got really long nails.

And I did have

So I said sorry
for the scratches across his cheek
and he said
Sorry
too.

Then I told him
I was from Wanstead
but I wasn’t really
London Overspill
because it was Essex
and we wanted to come.

He said I was right

and he let me sit
by the window.





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