My crossed leg dips
with my pulse – I’m
still alive – but a
nagging doubt is my
companion now until
my bloodpump is off
[there – shut down]
+ I hope for more –
I ‘dinnae’ what-for
is a dip of thought
that crosses here –
My value is tax-set
+ found in time – I
am not paid well in
papery poetry bonds
+ time is short too

How will our happiness
be identified? By sips
of first tea [in a bed
hot with sleep] & ripe
for felt reconnections
after our mug swallows
have gone deep? Or sat
with salty kisses upon
your cheek & hand-held
grips of blown flesh –
kindness contributes –
We will eye it between
meets – sated together

This has to start
with a line [or a
thought] – enough
to lift from this
un-stepped path +
get me on [my tea
cools too fast] –
poke keys hard as
if that matters –
I am an artist of
word-reputation +
fail to play well
in my poem halves

I used that word – us –
in conversation about a
near act – or something
of that ilk – a short +
easy to say declaration
about us – our-ness now
a shared secret that’ll
one day be known by all
those others – no guess
at who is – + this – us

‘Felled Sycamore Gap stump has ‘encouraging’ growth’ in insta
headline + I found my metaphor
[without cut-edge o’ blades of
online falsehoods in a post] –
We’ll find truth in concentric
rings [by count of such things
on what sits of a felled tree]
+ know how much was sawn at by
two drunks one night – year on
year – from that amputation is
‘encouraging growth’ – from it
will be a re-set [that profile
lopped] – encouraged hikers’ll
gawp at leaf-shoots in Britain