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March 5, 2015 / Tina

The Centre /Written Feb. 2013

Working for a pittance
Each morning waking
In the stormy winter gloom
Grey day upon grey day
Disgruntled money problems
Dreams in tatters
World crashing down
Amidst mouth gaping
And chin wagging spew of venom
As resentment reaches out
To squeeze the life out of life
Sitting hunched over in the corner
As dark clouds gather
And happy people laugh and laugh
And drink free coffee
Talking about novels and poems
The noise rising up
Head exploding, room a swirling bubble
Spinning round and round
This is a place for writers and artists,
Not dreamers and free loaders,
For people who pay money over and over
Subscriptions, donations and courses
More and more money
That’s what Counts
Not poetry and free booze
For liggers roaming the town
Three hundred euros for wine
In a city that has no character
And no characters
Just wasters.
Nothing but nothing to write about,
Nobody of interest.
Joyce would leave place.

Written by Martina Carroll – This is a very different vibe to the positive experience in The Irish Writers’ Centre these days:)

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