Ken's Poetry

Selfish Jean

Jean had nasty attributes,
strode about in heavy boots,
glanced about with wild distain,
jumped the queue to board the train,
grabbed the last cream cake in range
while dear old ladies counted change,
gave hitch hikers nasty looks,
shared no magazines nor books,
never gave her sweets away
nor ‘Big Issue’ time of day,
ditched envelopes from charities,
told phone collectors “Mind your biz!”
and when a friend asked for a lift
demanded cash before she’d shift.
When eating out she chose by price,
gave no tip and wasn’t nice.

She had a coffin built, when old,
with secret drawers to stash her gold,
“No pockets in a shroud” they say
but she would take her haul away
so when it all went up in smoke
Selfish Jean was gone … for broke.