Hi Christina,
Mega good poem this! So strong in its sensitivity.
It's sometimes crossed my mind... how older people are able to cope with
other people moving round, doing things for them, often bringing their
comments, attitudes with them, not always aware of the comments, attitudes
of the person who's world they've entered...
You bring the situation to the foreground well.
Thanks,
Bob
>From: Christina Fletcher <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: New sub: John (first draft)
>Date: Fri, 4 Apr 2003 04:03:22 EST
>
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> John
>
> Someone scours filthy bowls of scum and razored stubble.
> Someone makes the bed, lays out your clothes, remembers
> words you can't recall.
>
> Someone - you'd like to catch his name,
> although he knows you can't - wades through piss
> and disinfects the floor,
>
> brings acid drops to cheer you up.
> He tells you you're a doddle, sings-along-a-Max,
> knows the plot you missed: Kat's away,
>
> Pat moved in with Barry. He wipes his feet
> before he washes yours and clips your horny toenails.
> Sometimes, you think that he's your son and call him 'John'.
>
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> christina fletcher
>
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