It’s All About Mike
When rusted-nausea rises,
before you and the sun,
when you sweat-in-sleep,
and wake an old woman,
when stood your bones jar,
as if dropped-from-height,
when you carpet-shuffle,
dancing Ali’s last fight,
when bending to tug on socks,
and your arced back burns,
when squatted to the loo,
thighs-cry, grimaced gurns,
when pained to turn
to butt-wipe and follow-through,
that time, your ill-words, reversed..
it will then be about You.
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