Tuesday, 9 April 2013

Your Terry Underwear

I spent most of the day in a train today, so I wrote a poem about being on a train. I think people will be able to relate really well to this, because trains look like snakes and everyone knows what snakes are. If you have any problems though, do let me know. 

High lights, low nights! Much love x

On a Train in Spring

Hands up who’s been witness to a sheep
in a field, smashed to bits and sinking?
Really? I’m the only lucky soul?
Well, slap me in the face with an arable documentary.

A woman opens a bottle of water, carefully.
Ain’t nothin’ like a pack lunch to make you feel
like Nigella fucking Lawson. It’s incredible
what an egg salad sandwich can do for your self-esteem.

I huddle in for a team talk. I hear myself say,
“Every one of us was made to suffer,
every one of us was made to weep.”
Life is a parched silence without these moments.

Out in the field they’re readying the soil.
The sun-dried chunks of dirt lie
like the mistreated organs of my circulatory system.
With a little water they’ll be fine. 

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