Bottom Rung.


big issue - big issue

the asian lady calls in half

resigned tones then shivers

in the bitter January cold

handing across my copy with

her mitten covered hand

her accent speaks of foreign

more exotic lands and i

imagine vibrant garments

worn by ladies in those

sun-wreathed shores


i’ve seen her husband at this

very spot - both now reduced

to begging in a sophisticated

way to earn their daily bread

and keep alight the kindle-

wood pretence of warmth - my

sense of guilt kicks in with all

the comforts i enjoy at home

my citizenship not challenged

by the state and thus my

sense of identity and dignity

and confidence complete


for the price of one edition i

can walk away and say hey

i’ve done my bit and yet my

conscience knows that isn’t

quite the end of it – for i

remember signs which said

no irish folk or immigrants

are welcome here and

mother an o'mahoney

freshly out of county cork

◄ Fortune’s Smile.

Bush Baby. ►


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Thu 24th Mar 2011 17:20

Another of my favourites rescued from obscurity - greatly obliged

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Thu 24th Mar 2011 12:59

Isn't that the truth of life. Far too many of us of 6 billion strong eke out a mere existence. It makes you wonder what all the bottom rungers have to live for. What dreams line their nightly journey when their eyes shut to the reality that they will never escape even after their eyes shut permanently. *sigh*

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