Building houses of life
with white pine
and beaverboard
strife

Poured floors
of crete
and narrow doors
without glass

Varnished nobs
that soon corrode
and lose their flash

Matchbook marriage
that can't take the heat
soon burns down
in defeat

You paid your share
You collected nothing
but beaverboard
despair

google brings strange memories.

my friends talk of the coat hanger
effect. hanging our wares on each others’
shoulders, bearing us all down with the weight.

share it out they say, with friends and family,
loose and flowing, mind your engine does
not pink, we must have finer fuel. not feeling

our true self can be an infliction, the grave digger
reminds us of our years, our sense of humour.

we stare at icons, hope for a better price,
i went to the market yesterday.



notes ** maybe place in cupboards,
boxes, close the door, the lid,
carry on, carry.

A voice of softness
in times or darkness
an epistle loud
it carries anger and strength
for the suffering
the children
the ones taken away
by the devil
love of humanity
beauty that widens my eyes

how may I ask?
does one hug an angel

where the moon glistens every night
different shades of colour
where the stars dance and the sun would burst
where humans can breathe underwater
and fly though the fresh air
where scars heal as soon as you were hurt