Member-only story
autobiography in Wilko gel pen
a poetic perception of xenophobia
a Bloody Foreigner (read: thief) is exactly what I was born to be
I didn’t make my way into this world through my mother’s legs
I came by plane, low cost, landed on London Luton
Bloody Foreigner is the christening I received as the priest dunked me three times in holy water
Bloody Foreigner is my first name & what’s the point of order if nothing comes second?
on a pretty winter day I signed Bloody Foreigner on my settled status. now I’m settled in a Bloody Foreigner way
get half of me for 50p if you scan the yellow sticker
tear me apart to get to the best bit -
I speak your language, I pay my taxes on time, I donate to charity, I recycle, I’ve never committed any crimes — custard, Bloody Foreigner flavour don’t come close
Bloody Foreigner is on the cross I pre-paid in case I die here just so you know
what to do with me
autobiography in Wilko gel pen is a poem from my upcoming poetry collection, the space between piano keys scratches obsession. If you’d like to read more of my poetry, I have a collection on sale on Amazon right now.
And to find out more about my poetry, my immigrant journey, and my creative process, watch this Internet Ink podcast episode with me and Justin Boyette, and subscribe to the podcast for more amazing stories of writers around the world.
