Where, mon cher,is
Weston-Super-Mare?
A train ride to Bristol
My spiritual hinterland
To leave behind me
That winter wonderland
Snowballs and cooking
Turkey, some clucking
Pins and needles
Lambs and bleeding
Bound with string
Bells that ring
Mothers weeping
God is sleeping
Citrus or Quick Lime
A quick way to pass time
Just step on the land mine
Pass go, pass out slow
Crackers full of
Golden crowns
Long lost veins
And funny clowns
Down is up and
Up is down
Round and round
And round
And round
Leeches and a
Merry Go Round
Once a week
We get five pounds
Two weeks in
Then out to town
Chemist shops
Seem to abound
Down and outs
Sit inside out
The beggar’s shout
My guts
Fall out
And everywhere
The eye can see
The me in me
Is leaving .

©John Prastitis all rights reserved

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