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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Jun 2016
Tumbledown
Scrubbing my skin
rubbing the badness off and
letting some goodness in
raw
as in sore.
I keep wire wool in the drawer,
under the socks I keep
some more,
one can never have enough
wire wool
and like a bull in a china shop
I can't stop.
It's a disorder and can be cured
or so I'm assured
by the men who know such things.
I'll tumble down one day
when I.ve scrubbed all my skin
clean away, but then I'll be good
or should be
the men who know such things
say we
should have a chat
which we will do
after
I've scrubbed my back.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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