there won't be many shrouded gowns
or tears or tales to tell
above a bed with tiny frowns
to watch my carcass swell

perhaps a friend or cousin
no colleagues from past tense
i'd be shocked to see a dozen
if i don't outlast the 'rents

don't go too far out of way
or bring a spot of gin
just to watch my bones decay
and sorrow o'er my skin

kiss my head or curse or bawl
i won't know whose farewell
staring at a furnace wall
while looking up from hell

for now i'm lying here to show her
i can’t bear without your face
who knows if you'll need closure
i'll be dressed for just in case

i’d have lived for you but only
let's not talk about regrets
i'll wish you'd never known me
but hate to think you might forget

why you did it
still escapes me
but nothing else matters
now

all that savings
for better lives,
vows and memories
don’t make it any
easier

some kind of relief
or reassurance
would be great,
but i know there’s
nothing you could say
or do to fully
convince me

i hope It has
my nose or eyes,
but surely It has
your voice

… guess we’ll see

bun in the oven,
trophies in the attic.
i used to be a beast,
still am in the office.

bad shades and good vibes
are what we used to sell
from fast car windows,
pre-straightened edge.

no more just getting by,
we're gonna do better
than what i had to do
to please the 'rents, if that.

bathroom mirror is worn,
stains on the counter
from hidden faces
and powdered noses.

cool, calm, collected,
clearly a success now
just don't check the
top bedside drawer.

I’ll bake your bread
but never eat

I’ll curb your taste
with extra cheese

I’ll sell your wares
through cheeky grin

I’ll charm your trade
while breaking down

I’ll take your calls
neath frowning cheer

I’ll print your life
without the clout

I’ll scrub your floors
and your *****

I’ll give you time
at mine’s expense

doors are paved
buckets are heavy
fingers are glazed
pockets are ******

give and take
wife and man
pride and joy
hope and plan

air is toxic
back is failing
sleep is painful
bed is creaking

start or stop?
lows or highs?
smith or serf?
debt or worth?

car not starting
strap not locking
meds not working
wheels not stopping

they're living in flowers
up high and across the sea

while we avoid potholes
and bugs just to scrape by

the heat is unbearable
but not like the cold,
without the chance to
gather my bed
for a long slumber

this meal tastes like
ice and poison,
why would they
eat this junk?
then again
maybe they don’t

just a little higher,
i can totally reach
the brim
where the small heads
look on with glee

i wouldn’t hurt anyone,
and i forgive all the
voyeurs
for sacrificing their
time to watch me
survive

i just want to
go home