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Poem: In Reduced Circumstances.

In Reduced Circumstances. . . I feel very sad Seeing old people Hurting with every action That takes such time. I only hope that As life reduces possibility, There is increased pleasure In the remaining selection Of life’s offerings. . . t

Poem: Toddler.

Toddler. . . those first tottering steps like a tiny drunken matelot, listing first in one direction before staggering in the other, all accompanied with a gummy grin which radiates real happiness . l

Poem: After Polio.

After Polio. . . In those days, when Polio struck It went on with it’s grim purpose. It meant a year in the Pauper’s ward With it’s very limited visiting rules In terms of visitors allowed and allotted times. He was strong and he did survive But with a lifelong remembrance Of that victory, in […]

Poem: If You Go down In the woods Today.

If You Go Down In The Woods Today. . . As I walked through the woods I actually saw a couple Having a picnic together And they were stark naked. It was like a french painting. I hope that they enjoyed their moment Because I most certainly did. . .

Poem: Sum Total.

Sum Total. It is a consequence That I did not expect. You spend your time looking For a free, speedy, zipless fuck And you end up in love, With a woman, a mortgage and a life. . .

Poem: Hey.

Hey. . Hey, how can I know nothing about you Yet at the same time know everything. Perhaps, this is the apex of our time, So everything from here on in will be less Than this sum of all our parts and needs. I think I had this picture of perfection And the face I […]

Poem:Red Nails.

Red Nails. . . I always thought that old people had disgusting feet because they didn’t care about long yellow nails and cracked heels. I did not realize that their problem is more likely to be that they simply cannot see well enough, or bend down low enough to actually look at them properly, so […]

Poem: All The World’s A Stage.

All The World’s A Stage. . . It is like a West End hit With everyone’s part down pat, Moving only to the correct crosses, Giving out the scripted responses. It is a comfortable stage With pre-prepared characters. I don’t know that I really have a desire To find out who these people really are […]

Poem: Lost Sheep.

Lost Sheep. . . He is a little lost sheep Through no fault of his own, Out beyond the locked gate of the pen Prey to the sharp teeth of isolation, Alone in an unknowing world. Please rescue and return him In a condition as good as new, Safe in the world of the functioning. […]

Poem: The Ronettes Had Nothing On Us.

The Ronettes Had Nothing On Us. . Valerie and I spent numerous hours In the white tiled public toilets Near the wrought iron park gates. We would sit there for hours Singing all the latest hits. If we had been as good as we thought We could have been totally famous And owned the whole […]