Tere chashm-e-nam- a poem

Tere chashm-e-nam

Your wet eyes

are not the monsoonal windows

Of your green Urdu soul under gray English skies

Rather they are evidence of Rising Damp

Regarding which

This is my letter to the Council

Supporting your application

For re-housing.

Reminding them of your little boy with asthma

And  your 12 year old daughter who couldn't invite for a sleep-over

Her friends from School because the wall paper in her bedroom is peeling off

And there's this smell

Which brings me to the great pile of shite you married

Whom, I know, I promised not to mention

But, seriously, are you're really telling me he's now signed off work?

The fucker is ten years younger than me!

Rheumatoid fucking arthritis?

Are you shitting me?

You worked the Night Shift four years stacking shelves

To get him a visa?

The work-shy cunt!

Still.

Fuck, yeah, your rising damp

Sure is a scandal

The Council should take action.

Not that they'll do anything

Unless you're Nigerian
Or Lesbian
Or something.

Personally, I blame David Cameron

That boy aint right.