Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
Philip Larkin - This Be The Verse
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.
Go To Bed With a Cheese and Pickle Sandwich
It is life enhancing.
It doesn't chat you up.
You have to make it.
A cheese and pickle sandwich
is never disappointing.
You don't lie there thinking:
Am I too fat?
Your thoughts are clear,
your choices simple:
to cut it in half
or not to cut it in half,
how thin to slice the cheese
and where you should place the pickle.
From a cheese and pickle sandwich
you do not expect flowers,
poems and acts of adoration.
You expect what you get:
cheese... and pickle.
You want, you eat,
and afterwards you have eaten.
No lying awake resentful,
listening to it snore.
It comes recommended.
Mandy Coe, from Pinning the Tail on the Donkey (Spike)and 101 Poems that Could Save Your Life
Edited by Daisy Goodwin, Harper Collins