Wankers in Wellies (Poem)

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It’s that time of the year again where LEEDS

FEST

has got the students

packing

with everyone getting stopped at the gates for trying to smuggle

in cheap

booze.

They’re not in it for the music;

they just get

off

on getting their feet muddy

 

camping out in tents all weekend (for a ridiculous chunk

of their loans)

 

they always leave the fields in a state

and get too fucked

up

on drugs to appreciate any of the smaller

acts.

 

In their brand-new boots (like the Hippy-cider-

lot at V FEST)

they get a rush outta shitting in holes

then moaning about the state

of the bogs

on INSTAGRAM.

Youngers sisters wanted picking up, I said fuck it I ain’t going

any-

where

near

 

and those people left

on the sidelines who were refused entry/can’t afford

to get in, will often turn, screaming

“BRING BACK REAL MUSIC!”

 

like it’s cool to be “ALTERNATIVE” all of a sudden

 

(and this is why I don’t get a kick

out of following

trends).

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