February 4, 2017

My left foot offends me I say cut it off, I’ll take my chances with my remains
propped up by phantoms, prescriptions and prosthesis, I will never be any more lame.
Give me a bounce like Tigger, a dance like Calvin’s, and a song like bp nichol, just leave
me one leg to stand on, and  fire in my brain to keep moving, I’ll let you know
when my ashes need hauling.




This entry was posted in Music for Men Over Fifty: Poems of Love and Surgery, pain room blogish, Poems, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Trackbacks are closed, but you can post a comment.

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