|image by EJR ©|
mirror, mirror, am I humpty-dumpty...?
I ask myself in the mists before declaration...
what are doing hiding your sad testimony
behind clever ribaldry and purification rites
inter-ring-ly smitten lusty with words for limbs
do you tongue the quiet fenlands wishing sea or rain
do you downtrodden-ly make like a broken man play
purposing ill reputed bitten with fits of escapism
and tactile sensational crawling into(s) and towards
do you ever want to be contented, comforted and happy...
or is it just going to be
a series of back alley wombs
any one more
that makes you feel
put together again...