Rogue

"He is a loveable rogue"
you said to me
as you parked outside his house
to pick him up.

But he isn't.
I remember the time he called my uncle a tosser
for bumping into his trolley
in Asda

The time he burgled the old man
who fought in the war
and then claimed "but I really needed the money"
and his friends stuck up for him
in the pub that evening.

How the girls laughed when we went to the beach
and he drank too much
and pissed on the barbecue,
they said he was just
"fooling around."

But they were my sausages
and I'd bought the mustard with me
all the way from Strasbourg.