The agency have been at work again
He just didn’t look like a poet so they set to work
Told him to lose a few pounds and get a new stylist
The shabby chic look to match his fake poverty lyrics
Helped sell the gig and books in the provinces
Bolstered the teenage girl clickbait on tiktok
It was so much easier to sell the image than the contents
After all style over content the norm so no matter
His youtube and whatsapp ratings were off the scale after the revamp
His poetry books flew of the amazon print on demand presses
Soon even the arts council wanted a piece of the action
After all WWCB had just come onto their radar
Meanwhile his poems started to falter
The early promise based on genuine family history
Gave way to more and more internet copped falsities
His heroes had blundered on through addiction and blank pages
Now he was dropping more pills to keep the words coming
His apps were full of half-finished ideas and poems with no ending
Then one day it all ended
In a fast food stop on a motorway
He caught his reflection in a window
His eyes hollow, his hair teased by a stylist
Into the Victorian waif look
Another Delivery driver just like his father.
Another acronym to play with WWCBWP
White Working Class Boy Without Poetry
