I is for the Isle of Dogs

 
Her eyes flick over me as fast as a barcode scanner.  
She has all the information she needs,  
Right here and right now.  
She says something about the Workfare Scheme  
The opportunities there are in retail.  
Tesco is mentioned.  
I have to stop myself from laughing.  
Stop myself from saying,  
No, that ain’t gonna happen,  
Not in a MILLION FUCKING YEARS!
I turn away and look out of the window and
Think about Trevor on the streets of Los Santos.
 
She talks some more.  
She checks my book  
To check on the jobs I’ve applied for  
Since I last signed on.  
Outside, I see some guy on his phone  
Looking at my bike and  
I have to keep an eye on him, I think.
 
She says, ‘you been busy?’
‘Looking for work,’ I tell her, and that’s the truth.
I go out looking for a job every day
Hoping to God I don’t find one.
 
Outside the street is alive  
Like a scene from GTA 5.  
A dog barks, a pit-bull type,  
As a woman ties it to the fence next to my bike.  
Next to the guy on the phone,  
But away from another dog.  
One chained further down,  
A cuddly-curly thing with a wagging tail.  
The pit bull tugs on the lead,  
Whining and whimpering, and desperate to get at it.
 
Then the woman burst in  
And starts going on about her claim.  
Wants to know why it’s been stopped.  
Telling them that she’s got nothing,  
Nothing for the food or the rent and  
‘It’s out of order, that’s what it is
OUT OF ORDER!’  
She swings round and starts pointing and
The security guard comes over  
Ready to get her in a lock.  
 
I’ve seen her face before, I think.  
Selling gear in the boozer, but I don’t let on.  
Instead, I turn away and look out at her dog
It’s straining to get at the poodle.  
Hell bent on tearing it to pieces.  
And part of me wants to see it do it.  
Let it off the lead, I think.  
Let’s see one of us round here  
Do an honest day’s work.