He Knows No Artichokes Poem by Rita Ann Higgins

She didn't mind his toxic tan
or his weasel taste in toothpaste.
What she did mind was
the way he'd Cheshire cat
the woman from the council
and the way she visa versa
would Cheshire cat him.

It was on the tip of her tongue
to tell visa versa
that he was poison on the inside
and not to be fooled by his silk sheet face
or them hammer your knickers to the ground eyes

and furthermore when he tells you
he likes the Jerusalem artichokes
forget it, the liary yoke knows no artichokes.
She has a good mind to tell visa
about his guacamole hole
only she'd probably pity him.
He had a way of making the females pity him
a toxic tan way of touching the pity spot.

If they really knew,
his favourite food was
dried pigs blood with a thistle on top
and if he's not having a collision with a fry up
he's traumatized.

Jerusalem artichokes my crack,
don't be fooled
by his silk sheet face, she'd say
he's rotting from the inside out
I know it and the street knows it
the council should know it too.