I'm not looking at the bloody business end
just talking for the sake of hope
and holding the squeezing hand
all emotion pushed deep down
or I'll drown
the spring light is bright upon the pimpled wall
as I slide light-headed to the floor
noting the dust on the skirting board
all emotion is pushed deep down
as I gasp the air or be drowned
between the sucking squeezing sigh
that terrible silence that draws the eye
from this feinting self obsession to the red baby
dangling downwards - cry - oh cry -
please make a sound
and it comes - unreal in that morning in sobs
the burst'd lungs to breach the damn
as the pent up feelings of failure flow
gut freed in laughing grief
The Blue Book
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