Arthritic ageist.

 I am an ageist now,

I hate my arthritic finger,

Which is crooked and makes me drop

That which I attempt to hold.

I hate the grind of bone on bone

In my arthritic knees.

I love watching birds

Envying the elegance of their flight.

When I stagger out

Balancing with walking stick

And shopping trolley

To put rubbish in dustbins

All of ten yards

It’s my journey for the day

Then I watch people walking by in the street

Every stride they take

Looks as miraculous as flight to me

I am an earthbound and static ageist

Replaying memories

And listening to music played by ghosts

Waiting to be carried to the grave

That is why I am an

Arthritic ageist.

staggershit

 Sometimes when I stagger out to shit,

In the middle of the night,

I hear a robin singing,

And I wonder if it is trying

To sweeten the darkness.

Sometimes when I stagger out to shit

In the middle of the night,

I hear a randy dog fox

Barking sharply.

I wonder if this sounds romantic to a vixen.

Sometimes when I stagger out to shit

In the middle of the night,

I hear a police helicopter's blades slicing the air ,

As it circles searching,

To mount surveillance

On us villeins below.

Sometimes when I stagger out to shit

In the middle of the night,

I hear nothing.

So I sit and shit quietly

In suburbia.

shredsong

 

My shredder sings to me

As I feed documents in

Between its sharp gnashing teeth

Selections from my history get eaten

Strips of paper are shat out beneath.

This is the way I edit my past

Edit my past

Edit my past

And censor my information

I cut up the things that I wish to hide

Wish to hide

Wish to hide

And send them to incineration.

So the metal music

Of the shredder’s blades

Sends me into reverie

And I dream of forest glades

And the song of the chainsaw.