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Self Indulgence / 5 December 2012

I am sitting in a car in winter time. Its good. I've got writing and can indulge in a poem or two.

Love as you know it

Is nothing
To write home about
A far too easy word to say
A bitter pill to swallow
I felt it once
A passing fancy
Relegated like a team
To lesser delights
Smaller achievements
A football
To be kicked around
With spite, with venom
In a never ending circle
Of oppression
Be warm you say
Be nice wouldn't it
Cough
Swallow Bile
In failure
The nothing
Nowhere Man
Returns to Urban Cosmonaut
Loving the final syllable
Of naut
That sounds like nought
A big fat Zero
We know who invented the zero
What ahppened to them
Bruiosed, battered on battlefields
But rejoice
For a return to nothing
Is full of something

Poem 2/ Temp -3 degrees

Temp -3 degrees
Am I keeping warm
With the salt spreaders
Am I sleeping well
In consideration

Of Pros and Cons

Of hitchhiking
Whilst touring
favoured roads
In search of:
Hare, Owl, dear Deer
Doe, Buck, Stag
I spent some time here
Shorn Antlers here
Horns scattered

In bloodshed
A Fox
Dead
Prostrate
In the road
I heard
Its back break
I feel stale coffee
Raise
Sicken
Bile
Spleen
Unvented
Intreated by
Your Appeal
Temp -3 degrees
Fleece half open
Window open
Fag burning
Listening to Waters
Rogering banks
Softened by a
Cconstant rain
Aware now that
Only the rabbit
Keeps

Late
Cold
Hours

Poem 3 / Joe Knows

Joe knows
The child crying in the rain
Joe knows how
He got there
Wet and Crying
Stronger waters
The child is still there
Joe Knows
He asked him to come in
To Shelter
Give himself a chance
But the child knows
What Joe doesn't know
That he was scared
Rescued for nothing
By those who told the lies
To the child
Which is why he cries
Should you want
to know more
Ask Joe
Joe Knows