Daddy the Drunk

Drunken daddy Late By a weekend No money again Mummy’s furious Sunday night she hides Fat sniper Behind the sofa Lights off Breadknife in hand Last chance expired A quarter past ten The window rattles Curtains flap Real men use doors Two skinny legs push through a tiny window Then an **** follows Mummy gets up slowly ‘Caught you, you bastard! This is the last time! You don’t get to sleep in my bed! This is not a hotel! Go back to the pub and live with your ****ing friends!’ To encourage him out she pokes the knife in his leg It slips Upwards And enters his backside instead Severed flesh A red patch grows on his filthy work pants ‘You ****ing psycho *****!’ It does the trick He takes off like a dog out of a trap And mummy runs to the front door and shouts ‘I’m sorry, Love, please forgive me! Come back!’