Editors Christopher & Keri – #PoemADayForAYear: 07/04/15. NaPoWriMo Day Seven

Here are our NaPoWriMo offerings for today. The prompt comes from NaPoWriMo.net and is ‘money’.


As a student,

I had money.

God bless Mr Cameron.

OK, tuition fees went up

but that is no concern to

someone, who realistically,

as someone who wants to make a

living as a writer, will probably

never have to pay it back.

I suppose ‘I had money’

is a phrase that carries

a lot of weight, many connotations

that no be necessarily be true.

First day of term,

fees paid, rent paid

and the leftovers to last four months.

One day I found myself

in a DVD shop, a three foot,

300-pounds worth stack in my arms.

I did not see those ‘leftovers’

as a budget for food,

bills, general living.

It was a red hot burning

pile doing untold damage

to my bank’s brickwork

and the pockets of my

brand new Rocha John Rocha jeans.

I struggled with the box-set stack

I held.

‘It’s an investment’

I told myself.

Something to do when

I’d run out of money and

could not afford to go out.

Irony was in disguise that day.

‘It’s ridiculous’ another voice piped.

‘Put them back.’

I half-conceded

and spent £100.

Two months into term,

the arguments about bills

in shared accommodation began.

Bills which, of course,

I could not afford.

They were not in my budget.

My budget had been carefully

planned to incorporate

two pubs trips a week and

a takeaway on a Saturday night.

Not paying for gas.

I do not speak to my old

housemates anymore.

That may or may not be a different story.

Now I work full time.

I did not graduate

but still have that debt

waiting to creep into my payslip.

It never will.

I do not have a budget at all now.

There is no point.

Before my wages have settled

in a still overdrawn account,

they have gone.

I have Rent


Phone and internet

TV License



National insurance

Council Tax

Income Tax

Tic Tacs.

They’ll tax anything.

All bills paid but no shiny toys

for my hard work.

I think they spectrum of financial responsibility

fired too far the other way

and got stuck.

Thanks Dave.


Having a Poet Partner

‘I have already

written mine’ he said smugly.

‘My poem, I mean.’

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