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Resolution #9
Resolution #9
A cascade of sparks
exploding in the blackness
of a revellers sky
like bright tears.
Crying for the homeless
sat where the light
doesn’t fall,
under archways,
behind garages,
in cardboard boxes.
Damp and cold
while a flaming wheel
greets the crescent moon
as it circles.
A metaphor
of the turning year.
Out with the old and needy,
in with the bright young thin...
Thursday 1st January 2015 9:22 pm
Old Tyke Blues
Old Tyke Blues
I woke up this morning -
found my leg was dead.
Slipped as I got up
and banged my head,
fingers to temple
came away red,
trail on the carpet
where I had bled.
Went down for breakfast -
the milk had gone sour,
turned on the toaster -
a distinct lack of power.
Go back upstairs,
stand under the shower -
water is...
Wednesday 10th April 2013 9:10 pm
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