Just becauseI’m on my kneesdoesn’t mean I’m down I could be praying, hell Just becauseI can’t affordyour lazy opinion Doesn’t mean I’m poor, no Just becausethese hands hold dirtdoesn’t mean they’re clenched They may be cradling, yes Just becausein each of them a life lineholds a garden’s sanity Doesn’t mean I’m rising, yetFirst published in … Continue reading Three Chord Morning

we should do something about pain managementmy doctor Eileen concerned my talon handswhat was my good kneeand the dull ache in my back need My Body is a Temple OK? pressing the green pensioner buttonOld Bill comes in the reception doormoves slowly a square rule on a caneacross and out the waiting room slider a … Continue reading Jesus, They Must Think I’m Dead

those who talk of standing sleephow they curl like catssnuffle ground as wingless dragons or idle attent in the full sun because there are not enough daysto feel earth undulate in the tease of burlap pose rump into the weather always alert for the summonsthe startled flap of ploversas unshod hooves cherish gallop then call … Continue reading They don’t know about horses