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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Oct 2016
On the up
Just a look of disgust on his face
ugh!
don't want to see things like that
in this place.
Bob's got a job and can't see any more
the floor
he's risen beyond
got a bond for a flat
can't be doing wiv beggin' or
anything tacky like that.
How soon he forgets that he had ****** all
I hope Bob doesn't fall
off the wagon and
back onto the skids with his head
in a flagon of cider
(adding a rider, it could be a barrel of beer)
The beggarman
She doesn't dwell on detritus
she might cuss and
kick him
or
throw him a bone via the trash bin
he's still there
though I'm not sure of his name
smokes tailor made
so
must be on top of his game.
he has
eyes everywhere
he sits anywhere
spinning out lies to
reel in the unwary
(how dare he?)
just or absolute?
shot with disgust
killed by
I must get away
it's another rainy day or
so the radio says, but
the Sun
never shone on those who have gone
and they won't ever really return.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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,
Elizabeth Squires
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Keith Wilson
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