Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Rochdale

Everybody thinks it’s all right,

because she was born bad,

if they tell themselves that enough times.

She changes before their eyes,

from a wide eyed child,

with dreams,

homework,

and a school tie her mother has to help her with,

to their evening entertainment,

because they talk a new image into their eyes,

they repeat it like a prayer,

predators chanting in a circle,

believing their magic is innocent.

They never ask her why,

she is near the night,

why she dares to venture into the darkness,

because they know the truth,

tarnishes their already jittering justification,

but,

it doesn’t matter.

It never matters.

They are good men,

if they say they are good men.

She is a slut,

if they say she’s a slut.

She came to them,

even when they spent months,

laying out a line of pebbles and promises,

easing her down a perilous path,

letting her get lost,

drunk on the idea that someone gives a damn,

before they stole from her,

as she slept,

but it’s still her fault,

because they say it is.

The court will free the devil,

if he wears a nice suit,

and they will hang her,

with the skirt she wore,

and a map of all the places she went,

even though she had no sense of direction,

and nobody expects a poor,

helpless grown man,

to say no,

because he is a good man,

if he says he is,

but she was born bad,

no matter how many times she said no.


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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

To The Catholic Brexiteer

I am so sorry.

Genuinely.

From the bottom of my mixed up,

mixed race,

part white,

part polluted heart,

I am so,

so sorry.

I have stolen a white man.

Several, actually,

and some white women too,

I know that they belong to you,

but you know us “darkies”,

(although, as a mixed person, I’m sort of in the middle,

lightly toasted,

if you will),

we are just predisposed to crime,

and unfortunately,

my mother’s lily white,

innocent DNA was just not enough,

to overcome my emotional kleptomania,

and so I stole them,

pure white British hearts,

taken into my ethnic lair,

and probably used in some dark and demented foreign ritual,

because you know what us people are like.

I am so sorry,

to have caused you such distress,

as I destroyed the master race.

Thoughts and prayers.


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Hear My Music

Hear My Podcast

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
In The Garden Of The Free Children
Virgin Vogue
Sad Girl’s Love Song

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Posted in Blog

New Live Event

Hola amigos,

I’ll be performing next month, at She Grrrowls in London, on Friday the 7th of February, at 19:30.

You can find full details and buy tickets here

Besos,

J x


Read My Books

Hear My Music

Hear My Podcast

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
In The Garden Of The Free Children
Virgin Vogue
Sad Girl’s Love Song

COME FIND ME
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Ask Jen

Facebook
Patreon

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Amazon

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Posted in Blog

Sincerely, Jennifer x – S04E11 – Him & Her

On today’s episode, Jennifer talks about anxiety, ad libbing, how her life resembles a romance anime, and the wonders of notebook theatre therapy.

Jennifer also updates you on the recent events in British politics, including the latest on Labour’s search for a leader, the next step for Brexit, the tentative but triumphant return of Stormont, and what some English MPs think about Scottish Independence.

You can find the new episode on your favourite podcast provider here, and you can find the episode guide for Sincerely, Jennifer x here.

Season 4

Besos,

J x



Read My Books

Hear My Music

Hear My Podcast

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
In The Garden Of The Free Children
Virgin Vogue
Sad Girl’s Love Song

COME FIND ME
Twitter
Soundcloud
Instagram
Ask Jen

Facebook
Patreon

Tumblr
Amazon

Podcast
Spotify

YouTube
Rumbl
Email Me