Miss iDrew presents

iWrite (RIGHT!) her collection of

COMEDIES, HISTORIES, &

TRAGEDIES

LONDON – ESSEX - SUFFOLK Published by CCCPress & the Clueless Collective

First published in 2011 by CCCPress

www.cccpress.net through the Clueless Collective www.cluelesscollective.co.uk

All rights reserved

First Edition

Condition Of Issue

This is a free issue by the Clueless Collective subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any

form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser/receiver

iNtroduction iPink iSweet iRow iSkip #1-5 iCurse iDevelopment iHalf iOffside iSlut iFart iBukowski #2 iGarage iConceive iMMIX iAcknowledge

CONTENTS

iDrew Drew was born in the county of Essex. We could leave it there. Drew the Essex girl, what more needs to be said. Well her favourite whine may be; “I wanna go to Lakeside”, but apart from that she isn’t orange skinned, she’s far from being dumb, she claims to be a good girl (debatable), and she’s never owned a pair of white stilettos, however ask her to list her hobbies and they would be boys, shopping, and clubbing. I think what sways any argument in her favour is that she’s a fresh and innovative poet with a unique style and voice. She’s appeared in many publications, both on line and in print. Unafraid to tackle issues of modern life, femininity, relationships, and fun in her uncompromising yet often humorous way which has seen her have poems banned from some of the rather conservative and, quite frankly, irrelevant sites out there on the internet world (attitudes circa 1809). This small sample of some of her earlier work contains some previously published works alongside pieces that have yet to see the light of day. This collection has been gathered together as snippets of her insight and playfulness. Even her presentation has become an instantly recognisable statement of a 21c poet, but one removed from 16 bar rap/grime influences that has come to dominate the scene of late, instead she chooses to stubbornly go her own way. This is Drew. Cath Attar the Clueless Collective.

iNtroduction

i was born into a pink world of pink clothes and pink dolls pink ribbons in my bunches and this is how it was to be i was a little girl with blonde hair and i was pink i had white daises printed on my pink dresses and painted onto pink picture frames on my mirror in my pink room and my little pink pony and pink princess plastic castle and on a pink school bag on my pink hairbrush and on my pink princess bed where a heartshaped bed of daises was printed onto my pink quilt cover and a field of daises growing up the pink curtains one christmas i was given a barbie doll she had pink dresses and pink shoes and a pink plastic apartment with pink plastic furniture with pink crockery and pink ornaments and pink soft furnishings barbie also had a pink plastic car and a pink plastic caravan and a pink plastic boat and pink plastic garden furniture and a pink plastic dog but barbie was a boring little slut so i melted her into a blob. then i turned goth and everything went

iPink

poo sticks not the game played by a pooh bear on a bridge whose seams came undone ‘cos of too much honey in his tum but skinny ones squeezed out me bum bogie flicks my nose was bunged up it made my brother laugh that i talked funny so i picked me a sticky one dug it out of me nostril and fired it off in his direction jammy dodgers just be thankful i wrote this when i was about ten otherwise this could have so easily have been really disgusting it’s a myth that little girls are made of spice and sugar although looking all cute may be a good disguise but i’m little miss chief and not very nice

iSweet

you and me sitting in the pub y-e-l-l-i-n-g you and me sitting in the cab p-a-r-t-i-n-g you and me sitting in our front room s-o-b-b-i-n-g you and me sitting in bed k-i-s-s-i-n-g

iRow

iSkip #1 one two three four five six seven i got wankered at a rave in Devon seven six five four three two one drum ‘n’ bass Es topless in the sun iSkip #2 in the club at the bar jonny tried to flirt put his hand up my skirt i told the bouncer the bouncer took him round the back jonny got a spanking for being a pervy prat how many spankings did jonny get one two three … iSkip #3 apples peaches pears and plums promise to tell me before you come

iSkip # 1-5

iSkip #4 mickey biff built a big spliff how many buds did he use one two three four five six … iSkip #5 i feel a little drunk and this is strong skunk come upstairs i’ll answer your prayers switch off the light i know how to delight how many times did we do it last night one two three …

it’s seriously hard to be exact although it did happen during the night sometime just before my thirteenth birthday or there abouts (pre ipod days i was hoping for a cd walkman) the unspoken curse was always expected as overnight my cute bunches morphed into a ponytail and then everything went whatever school homework whatever tidy my room whatever home by nine thirty whatever it’s all so unfair like you’d ruined my life forever i hated you then you really didn’t care but at least with my walkman (oh yeah i never did thank you for my pressie) i could blank all yer non stop nagging

iCurse

at school i was the lucky one with the extra cool dad and mum who gave me the moon and the stars and the sun instead of expensive plastic trash with things that flash costs wads of cash the other kids for some reason jealously wanted to be me i had every freedom of self expression to be me became my life lesson and in the process being a child was big fun then womanhood begun like a shape shifter i owned what boys wanted to play with but when they couldn’t get more than a snog or a hand upstairs outside ‘cos i refused to be another of their unloved lovers (which was what a council estate girl was apparently destined to be) and getting inside my knickers was strictly a no-go zone then oxymoronically they called me slag

iDevelopment

mathematically we are complete

you and i an exception a peculiarity in this fast world

where i’ve seen many a loneliness

rush in to find their one

only to crash into disappointment head on

whereas we soft fell

into each other as if by accident or fate

not a collision to be left collecting

romance scars one by one

so let spring couples count petals only to watch them desiccate

one by one what do we care we are complete with one heart

we are complete in our own little universe

because together we are one

iHalf

i couldn’t have looked more less interested if i tried really darling of course darling but still he insisted on explaining the pointless offside rule pushing the pepper pot between two wine glasses then looping a sugar cube over the top offside the pepper pot he said moved too early i smiled stupid pepper pot what a total numpty ok he said let’s look at this another way you’re at a sale in top shop now he had my attention and you’re at the counter queuing to pay for a new dress when this girl pushes in front of you catches a bag her friend has thrown to her from the other side of the shop and slams it down on the counter that girl is offside no honey i said that girl is dead

iOffside

i’ll give yer a call in the week was the last thing he said as the door closed and his footsteps faded away into the early morning yeah right i’m gonna believe that but i do every time and make excuses thousands of excuses that his phone must be broken or he has run out of credits and i check my phone make sure it’s still working wonder if maybe he is working away on one of his UN special missions in some remote place and can’t get a signal what if he’s had an accident and lost his memory or is in a coma or press ganged by pirates and forced to sail the seven seas or even had his identity stolen and now he doesn’t know who he is then again perhaps i’m just a slut

iSlut

it really pisses me off after you burp or fart the way you look at me and smile with an over-inflated sense of pride what pisses me off more is when i fart you look down on me in disgust and call me a dirty little slut

iFart

and the moon and the stars and the lasers dancing away the night that’s so cool for the soul seeing the colours fly off spaced out girls clinging ever so close to their loved up men

iBukowski #2

you can’t say sorry with wilted chrysanthemums it’s not that i want roses and a candlelit meal at a posh restaurant or champagne at a trendy nightclub not breezers in a high street disco i just don’t want to be an after thought when you’re paying for your petrol and rizlas

iGarage

last week i gave birth to the apprehension that everything in the garden wasn’t rosy when you stopped bringing me flowers the way you used to do every week you said the florist had closed down (it seemed to me you was getting good excuses) the other night i gave birth to the thought you was losing interest when you fell asleep undressing me you said you’d been doing double shifts (i think i now know what that means) last night i conceived another notion that you’ve been seeing someone else an idea i couldn’t abort as it grew and grew inside of me and as in the film alien this foetus was ready to messily explode desperate i sent a text to every girl in your phone you never said you had a sister who’s now convinced that you’ve got herpes now I’m positive i’m giving birth to kittens

iConceive

what’s in the mmix for yet another new year what will happen what will i do will i find my true love the fact i’m still looking means it ain’t you i want the future sunshine and flowers most of all i want to be loved and in love be devoured that’s my mmix for happiness sorry honey but you are now an ex

iMMIX

iAcknowledge

iRow first published by The Delinquent

iSkip first published by Anastomoo

iCurse first published by Negative Suck

iSlut first published by The Gut

iFart first published by Anastomoo

Produced by CCCPress © the Clueless Collective 2011

www.cccpress.net

www.cluelesscollective.co.uk

All work © iDrew 2011