Poem -

O no

O no

the day John Lennon
was shot,
I didn't care what,
I was laid up
suffering a severe
case of tonsillitis.
I lost the ability to swallow,
the lining of my throat
festered as rotting
fish,
I had to spit in a bag,,
imagine.
it played on the radio,
a million times I heard it,
confined to my room,
where I could spit .
Now when I hear the tune,
I have an involuntary gip..

 

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Poem -

near miss

near miss

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Poem -

Corporal Punishment

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during COVID..
I had my own ' bubble'
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