So who to invite? Who will we call?
The flabby, the greasy, the insignificant, the small
The dodgy dealers, the guy on the make
The long-haired hippy, the new age flake
The red-neck farmer, the angry young man
The driver from the East in his dirty white van
Straight from AA or Her Majesty’s Pleasure
Looking confused, feeling under the weather
The bankrupt banker, who’s lost his mask
The exhausted office worker, weighed down with task
The stinking, homeless beggar, the tossed-away lover
The black-suited mourner, who just lost his mother
The orphans from war zones under the rubble
Walking like zombies, looking for cuddles
The quiet gay guy yet to come out
The courageous drag queen who just wants to shout
The woman on benefit, looking ill-fed
Who gives food to her children, goes hungry instead
The mumbling maniac sat on the train
The broke stock-broker walking home in the rain
The Big Issue seller sitting in the cold
The poor, the edgy, the weak and the old
The disturbed, the uncomfortable, the mad and the weird
The strange and the stupid, the crazy and the feared
The chain-smoking psychos, the ones who don’t fit
The ridiculous, the saddos, the grumpy old git
The imperfect ones whose beauty shines true
The ones with the cracks – that’s how the light gets through
The really normal people
The ones. Just. Like. You.
The Banquet
by peter barrett
BHP
