#2,370 Headings

mike bell poems poetry

I am heading towards disabled
& aged at quicker rates –
pain is
my mate
[she will slip unseen &
pull at my ragged dignity from
below] –
dis-union an option?
As
I file –
again –
I wind up
[by acts
of others] my home & quiet life
as auld ill-myths unsettle –
my
body is my body
[alone among
those thrown in that high pile]
& now without screamed acts –
without parts playing out well