Being National Poetry Day, I’ve been visiting a few schools and reading out some of my poems for younger humans. Here’s one of them, along with an illustration by Dockers MC, who met me in a park in South London and handed me the portfolio like we were a couple of spies. Spies with amazing Caramel Magnums.
You can see the rest of the illustrations in the show The 9 and a Half Commandments of Aisle16, which has its UK debut on October 28th at Bethnal Green Workingmen’s Club. 
Me and Kelly cram ourselves into the photobooth
Kelly sits on my lap and ruffles my hair.
I grin. For each photo we try out a different look:
punk, saucy, happy, underwater.
In parallel universes, all of these couples exist.
I am wearing a tee-shirt for a band that no-one has heard of
Except my mate Alan who is two years older.
We have no exams for five months
And there is still Scott’s 17th to look forward to.
Outside the shopping mall, Essex is getting on with things:
Wiry men are pulled forward by their cigarettes,
Mums drag their children home like giant shopping bags.
Kelly slips her hand into mine.
The height difference makes this a little uncomfortable.
But I go with it.
I decide I want a fishcake from Bertie’s chip shop
But we go the long way round
So I don’t have to walk past Argos.
(Two nights a week I work there on the refund desk.
People haul in their broken TV sets.
“Who do I see about this?” they puff through reddened cheeks.
My colleagues point me out at the back of the shop.
“The Yeti,” they say. )
Kelly asks me if I want to go bowling
with a bunch of her old school friends.
“Maybe later,” I say.
My mum calls up:
“You’ve left dirty footprints all over the lounge,” she says.
“It wasn’t me,” I say.
“Who was it then?” she says.
“I don’t know,” I say.
My mum hangs up.
The bus drops us back in our village.
Kelly’s fringe blows out at a right-angle from her face.
I can hear the trees roaring in the park behind me.
Kelly holds up our strip of photos.
“Which ones do you want?” she asks.
“You keep them,” I say.
I am getting ready to break things off with Kelly.
There is a reason, but it’s not quite there yet.
Kelly’s breath hangs in the air between us.
“Look,” she says. “Snow.”