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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Apr 2019
Apparently so
Stand clear because I am the gear,
here with a suitcase and a face you could sandpaper.
Going West because South is not on the menu,
men do that you know.
They say that advertising works but that sign is broken,
don't believe all that you hear.
The train's almost full
I run on fumes.
Natural selection
and naturally
I select what suits me
but on the Jubilee
you take what you're given.
It's still early morning
and it feels like a Friday
which
tastes like a Friday
with barbecue sauce.
The weekend of course
comes back to me,
the magic boomerang
of elasticity,
Rumination between each station
chewing on cud, so to speak
but there's a warning for
innocent bystanders
who only see what they've
wanted to be.
want to be what you can't see
and you'll see what you want.
Leather?
well
some wear it well,
like some
animals.
Waterloo East
which
is due west of
Eden
but
my geography
isn't that hot.
Letters that drip off my tongue
some making words
some jumbled for fun
and making no sense at all.
Work beckons,
a skeletal finger on
a skeleton hand.
time to go,
but
just letting you know
this was me
scribbling away on the
Jubilee.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
69/Here and now
(69/Here and now)
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