AFTER THE ACCIDENT

The carts that carry off the dead travel away from where I sit.
The dead and dying, lying there, travel on the trolley-fuss,
waiting to arise and tell the Lord their alibis,
or comforting lies.I head towards salvation,
and a cup of tea, -  like all the walking squarking wounded.

17th January 2010

An Apology to Kerry

I am a muffin-man, mindless
in my empty-headed nonsense,
crater-brained with nothingness.
Like a long-lost word I struggle
to find my place in the sentence.
Unscrabbled on the letter-stand,
I stand. Full of Qs!
The start of something good perhaps,
buit meaningles without your U.

29/03/99