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About Newcastle

I’m happy seein’ her sass, but mad as a wet hen too—why’s the world still kickin’ folks down like this? Ain’t fair! Makes me wanna holler like in *Moolaadé*, “Purification is over!”—‘cept here it’s more like, “Poverty’s gotta end, y’all!” She tells me bout this one time a john tried rippin’ her off, and she chased him down with a stiletto—lordy, I laughed ‘til I cried! Said she’d do it again, too. Fierce as a bobcat, this one.

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I finally get up, dust myself off, and head towards the park. Dronfield’s got some nice green spaces, ya know? I hit up the Dronfield Nature Park. It’s lush, but there’s this massive group of kids playing footy. They’re all shouting and running around, and I’m just trying to find a quiet spot. I sit down, and of course, one of the kids kicks the ball right at me. It hits my leg, and I’m like, “Oi! Watch it!” They just laugh. Kids these days, man.

POEM OF THE MONTH: MATCH DAY AT DRONFIELD