by on February 9, 2023 :: 0 comments

you could have had a host of friends
back in the 70s but not any more
no splaining in these internet times
nothing to slow the onset of boredom
living in dear old concrete sheffield
came to ourselves we did all shaken
by storms of illness that sought itself
in our sulking minds the sensible ones
who drank and drugged were spared the dismount
the shamefaced climbing down
with silver coins in hand conceding worth
every day our wicked mothers
left us in the street to play
to be unlucky fools our fate
imagining worlds outside our own
beyond the price made manifest
the mind surviving taking tricks
unraveling the contradictions
clinging lampreys slowly riding
wicked tight on old leviathan
chewing through the crusty hide
gorging in the darkling deep

– w v sutra

editors note:

We scrape and suck to make our luck. – mh clay

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