Friday, 6 July 2018


It’s the same every week you’d think
Every time it’s the same you’d think

But just the divisive privilege
To write this on a journey home
Becomes quickly a thing less known

Crows have obvious
Poetic symbolism
And everyone can slip
As every Eric knows
(Ask Bananaman)
The Lithuanian man
Neighbouring the cash machine
Takes care of baby crows

He says the day tomorrow
Could be the best day yet
The park he says is very beautiful
He carries in his inside pocket
Round council jurisdictions
To find aid for lost embodiments

I have the privilege of this knowledge
Because I pop change
In coffee-shaped takeaway pots
Because now and then I listen

The most positive people I find
Are those who are greeted
With the most negative
Sentiments on the street

So pull on at least a
Sullen ‘Alright mate?’ next time
‘Cos they care like us
Be sharp be near
They hold crows
That paint premature feet
Round tired eyes that yearn for peace

So take care of your fellow
And listen to the wings’ beat

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