Bills, Bills, boil, boil toil and trouble,
The bloody council tax bill burst my bubble.
The gas and the excessive water rates,
Has got me stressed, in quite a state.
Quickened my heart and quickened the pace,
As this here wench is in the rat race.
Wonga or other payday loaners wear out my purse.

I make a potion, cast a spell and make a curse,
For getting paid but not meeting my needs,
Or any other hungry mouths I feed.
A night’s dream turns from sweet to sour
As they change the locks and cut off the power.
Maybe this much ado about a bill not paid,
Not sure if the Bard were alive today he’d have stayed.
“More” is Dickensian and not Shakespearian,
But alas there’s never enough unless you’re Kardashian.

Laura Sansom

Illustration by Luis Quiles