in her clapped out mackintosh
with brolly in hand
faffing thorugh the puddles
in her wellie wellingtons
beside the busy high streets
skint and without a 5-quid,
paying not a mind to what
the commoners had said.
proud to be pleb
though never chuffed ,at all
content within her bimble
then back to her bedsit flat
the taste of mums rashers