The Switchers. A poem by A. Q.

That music was so God-damned bad I had to go to the frickin tawlet!

Oh yeah.
You got nothin on me brother, I come and go with deafness,
sontines, I is blind, even,
I is paralysed to the bone

But most of the time, you are fasht ashleep.

Who you tellin? Watch you sighing?

Ah here, Jaysus, will yiz have another drink.

Yeah buddy, chin up for feck’s sake, It’s only a feckin pandemic.

Order! Order in the court.

here, turn it up, turn it up, I cayn’t hear nuttin.

Case dismissed!

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