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May 2018
Sensual?
that's whatΒ sold me on the bath salts,
but it was just advertising,
I looked the same under the bubbles
and
there was nothing sensual about that.

I always fall for the 'line'
time after time they hook me
and reel me in
I should have realised by now
that it's nothing but spin.

Leather suit,
they said,
wear it like a second skin
I wore it like a shell suit
( a fourteen pounder)
it looked more like
walrus skin, but they
reeled me in again.

Your shadow looks fatter on me
do I look big in it?

going off key and
playing my own song
you can
play along if you wish.

The man on a cart that came up from the bay
sold us pints full of prawns and that seemed like
yesterday,
in a parallel universe he's still selling his wares
cockles and shrimps and kippers in pairs.

and the knife sharpener who wore a sharp suit
and pedalled up on his bike
'sharp as you like' was his cry,

not forgetting the pop bottle man
who drove the streets in an olive green van,
but only sold pop and not olives.

I've forgotten most memories and that's not a bad thing
sing along, play along, write your own song. but in the
end they all sound like forgotten things, like foghorns on a
misty night, lonely
and alone.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
195
   unnamed
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