Poem submitted by Simon McKeown
Always this time of the month.
Tenth, eleventh of this long month.
Life still goes –
Gotta get up in the morning,
Face the walk, with two pre-rolled.
Caffeine giving her jump
On the wet, flat, cold trip in.
(Midsummer – proper joy,
A time to meditate and feel the early sunrays,
Bright and warm.)
A few smiling faces
And, evens being odds,
I should be there with 15 still to spare.
With strong tea kick start,
Face hand-over in crowded box with door,
Trying to straighten out the mess-up, fuck-up.
And still hunger bites, and blights
What’s a good job done, at times.