Queens of Lunacy

Six twenty a.m.
Meds not kicked in
Yet
Another psychosis
Again?
I hear the birds
Free bitches
Tunes as though
Life has no locks
No dirty ditches
To dump
The head fucked
In

Like us
Queens of lunacy
Boasting our
Lithium crowns
Regal but
On a different
Frequency
Time for pill pop
Want the fucking
Crazy shit to stop
The clock
Ticks
Out of time

Psycho mum
Drag my bones
Bust my butt
Necking my meds
Like a Valium slut
Popping the pills
To get free entry
To a sanity club
Crazy has
A price tag
I can’t afford
Ring a roses
We all stay mad

I’m fucked

©2020 Sarah Drury

The Queen Came to Live in My Street Last Week

The queen came to live in my street

The queen came to live in my street last week
The queen came to live in my street.
The Royal family were forced from their luxury pad
For their opulence made the public hopping mad
They were going to send them to Stalingrad
But now they’re slumming in a council flat
And they think that they’re hip and they think that they’re rad
But they’re not.

The queen came to live in my street last week
The queen came to live in my street.
When she goes to the shop on the corner with Raj
And she takes out her Visa for a tub of marge
And he says “under a fiver there is a fixed charge”
And the card is declined cos her debt is too large
And her bank is demanding a stellar surcharge
Now she is proletariat, not one of the stars
No she isn’t.

The queen came to live in my street last week
The queen came to live in my street.
The kids down the street make fun of her accent
And they think she’s a snob and they pisstake and torment
She tries not to cry though her patience is spent
By these little poor shits whose mums don’t pay the rent
And once upon a time they’d have had an accident
At the hands of the FBI who a cover would invent
Yes they would.

The queen came to live in my street last week
The queen came to live in my street.
She downgraded from a palace to a two bed flat
Instead of ten corgis she has a hundred rats
And the garden is stinking from the shit of cats
Whilst the neighbours smoke weed in their habitats
And they act like dickheads, not diplomats
Yes they do.

The queen came to live in my street last week
The queen came to live in my street.
She’s learning the lingo, the wankers and fucks
Soon she’ll be fluent, well fuck a duck
And Margaret Thatcher would be thunderstruck
With a profane gob like a garbage truck
Soon the hash cupcakes she’ll be learning to cook
Yes she will.

The queen came to live in my street last week
The queen came to live in my street.
She’s living off payments of government handouts
She’s nicking the caviar and dodging the checkouts
She’s eating baked beans then having a blowout
She don’t care about her hair and her perm is a washout
She’s loitering round the Gala bingo hangout
Yes she is.

The queen came to live in my street last week
The queen came to live in my street.

And she’s settled in rather well….

© Sarah Drury 2019