To re-unite us with ourselves
first agree to eject nothing [a
Cope advisory] – Bruises by a
hand will require accounting –
a broken heart also on my list
of pain-to-be-retained [as if I
will ever be fit to eject it] – By
sore scabby recalls my blood
syrups below my derma – no
clot of distrust will now shift
enough [my auld expulsions
are luxuries] – My disease is
my keeper with a stiff key – I
will sleep alone [to not infect
any other souls] – I need rest
‘tween earning my keep [as I
dream of robotic sheep atop
my paid-for retirement place
in a seaside town of Tories &
fat boozy men who talk a tall
story] – I’ll sleep my last days
in order to line my dreams on
sheets [ensuring this isn’t left
unsaid – & nothing is ejected]