Sunday, 23 February 2014

49. And Cancer (Written at a Blackthorn Winter)

Hear! and they are in place – singled out & bald
Upstairs in cafe, all of us study geography now
Rooty toot! The muumuus are vehement & pissed
All mad & sad

Voyage to what’s desired & forget your aches
Porridge is to be made of silence, too
Water’s rather reasonable but forget it
Shaken into purple

Improved Mexicans are getting it, really worth it
Whatever’s grittily grease-born, fails the city – oh
More rapid improvisations decay the shelf
It just breaks

I can only strange here I say
That a poem is never leaving – “NO!”
But only a small forest, a fidget
Of infernal chalk
                  ‘n’ cancer

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