“If life gives you lemons,
Make lemonade.”
A wise witty woman once bloody well said.

“Well, tell me, Wise Woman, what should I do
When heaped all upon me are piles of poo?
Nothing you add that can cover the stink.
Side-orders of cholera come with that drink!”

“When life gives you doo-doo,” the Wise Woman said.
“Roll up your sleeves and reach for your spade.
With plenty of hard work, this much is for sure,
You’ll rebrand that dung-heap and call it manure!”

Ha!

It’s all very well if you’re one of the few
Who owns a wheelbarrow;
A garden’s nice too!
But what if, like me, you live on the top floor
And the tower block lift doesn’t work anymore?
And all you can find is a small plastic bucket?
Six flights of stairs and then nowhere to chuck it?
As fast as I clear it, the shit comes in faster.
I ain’t no genius super forecaster
But I know where it’s heading

For me

To disaster!

Spare me your empty, dumb, mixed-up platitudes.
Kind condescension,
Pitying attitudes.
If you understand and you wish to give aid
Then gift me some land, and hand me a spade
Pay me a fair wage each day that I toil
And I’ll turn your shit-heap into a rich soil.
I’ll dig the best garden a man ever made,
I’ll buy my own sugar,
Then make lemonade!