Anyhow this is just another of my throwaway poems, it's probably terrible
and completely fails to say what I want but I thought I'd give the dead art
another try for a laff.
Best
Dave
I am brilliant, but pathetic.
Casual acquaintances tell me
the most intimate details
of their lives, yet I walk
home alone with my bundle
of silence humped on my back.
I am the one you love
but forget, the still loud voice
to be ignored, unbeknown
to the known, the laughter
clinking like wine glasses
that fades at the end of the joke.
David Bircumshaw
Leicester, England
Home Page
A Chide's Alphabet
Painting Without Numbers
http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/index.htm
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