CHOOSE WORK
Choose a job
Not just that
A career
An occupation to keep you occupied
A life affirming profession
To keep you busy throughout the years
Get an authenticated certificate
From an online course
With a degree in customer service
That qualifies you as the best candidate
For repetitous tedious labour
That makes you binge drink when you get home
Get up at 4 every morning
And spend hours commuting
To be buried in paperwork
Suffocated by monotony
Hiding every penny you earn
For rainy days that never come
Take on extra hours
To cover for some bin licker
Who has a meltdown
When asked to do something
Not listed on the application
They had their mum fill out
Take a part time contract
That takes up every second of your life
Then go straight to the pub afterwards
To bore the bollocks of some
Poor Bastard
Pulling a double shift
If you have a bad day on the line
Then get home late
And take it out on your family
Saying you wished you’d never bothered
Then lie in bed all night
Contemplating about disappearing
Live the dream of
Persisting through horrors
That continously thrive
Ever since you decided
To pay your own way
And walk the narrow path
Keep telling yourself
That it’s only temporary
Then find yourself 50 years older
Lamenting occupational hazards
Insisting it doesn’t define
The person that you are
And if you can manage all that
You’ll be rewarded
With a safety net allowing you
To escape only to find
You are too old and too tired
To do anything but go out
Without a fight
Living is overrated
Survival is key
Choose work
And hope your bills match your salary
QUALITY OF LIFE
The quality of our misery
Is been squandered
On empty words
Tedious chord sequences
Paintings that do not
Stir emotions
Novels where we reach
The end
In the middle of the
Plotline
Auto tuned vocalisation
Midi sequences
Language smothered
To the point
Where there is no
Rhapsody in our verse
Our misery
Has no joy
Because those we
Rely upon
To save us
From ourselves
Have no soul
No rebellion
To pick the stars
From the sky
Nor grab the
Angels
From Heaven
And pull them
Down to our
Level
The quality of our
Existence
Depends upon the
Arts
Yet with the
Modern philosophies
Of garbage in
Garbage out
Our chance of
Escapism
Holds no
Heart
It’s obvious
We’re not satisfied
And whether
We spread this
Melancholy
Or we have simply
Adopted it
We have neglected
Quality
In exchange for
The void
To which we die trying
To fill
Tom Priestley was born in Leeds in 1988. Tom began writing poetry and fiction from the age of 19. Inspired by Hunter S. Thompson, Charles Bukowski, Jack Kerouac and John Cooper Clarke. At the behest of a friend began performing his poetry at open mic nights around Leeds. From there he has supported many bands on the Leeds music scene, self published nearly 13 collections of poetry, organised events around Yorkshire, hosts his own poetry hour Urban Gristle with an online radio podcast through Cloth Cat Broadcasts, has released 2 albums Levels of Insanity and Shades of Chaos with Martin Trippett and be the drummer for the best band in Leeds The Beer Snobs. He has been published in various zines and collections including Sixty Odd Poets, ANARKISS, Gwenap Flyer, Starbeck Orion, Letters to Leeds Anthology and Odd Man Out.