Just an observation
Fag-it girls, pushing their babies
With their bums out and their tits out
Their attitudes out… on display
Furry bomber jackets
With their midriffs showing… in winter.
Fag-it girls saying fuck,
Like it means something,
When really it means nothing at all
Just a space filler
Shouting that they’ve got fuck all to say.
Fag-it girls, pony tails bobbing
High on their heads, tight and severe
Symbol, that they’re rock solid
Ignoring the screams
Of their soiled dirty children
In their soiled dirty pushchairs
No dosh for nappies, spent up on smokes.
Fag-it girls with pierced noses.
and un-breakfasted babies
A squashed sausage roll in tiny cold hand
But they put on their make-up to hit the streets
To bob and posture and preen
Fag-it girls with fifty pence meters
And third floor flats at seventeen
With one kid and an early one cooking,
She’s not showing yet
And he’s long gone
Fag-it girls teaching fuck all to their children
Like it means something.