<![CDATA[Milktown Writers' Substack: Vicky Lloyd-West]]>https://www.milktownwriters.com/s/vicky-lloyd-westhttps://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!fK60!,w_256,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1441c953-70b9-4960-bae5-e3524d470772_256x256.pngMilktown Writers' Substack: Vicky Lloyd-Westhttps://www.milktownwriters.com/s/vicky-lloyd-westSubstackSun, 19 Apr 2026 17:19:51 GMT<![CDATA[Belt ]]>https://www.milktownwriters.com/p/belthttps://www.milktownwriters.com/p/beltThu, 20 Feb 2025 15:09:05 GMTDaddy came in and he took of his belt
Then he rolled up his sleeves and we hid us away.
It was useless to hide, but we did anyway
In the hope that his purpose would melt.

He towered above us as quiet we knelt
And his eyes were as dead as a shark’s and as black,
And he raised up the leather and gave it a crack
And the sweat of his power we smelt.

Another four years is the sentence we’re dealt,
See the Proud Boys and Oathkeepers claim him as kin,
And the MAGA caps wave and the tech bros fall in,
And the purging and vengefulness start to begin,
For Daddy has took of his belt.

Vicky Lloyd-West

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