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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
May 2020
Random selection
You don't find crumbs of comfort in bed
it's usually toast or biscuits instead.
Does that feeling ever get so bad
when you're missing the thing that
you've never had?
Is lockdown just a shakedown
a protection racket?
Someone has to question
if the
answers do not add up,
they try the good cop bad cop
one more sus' stop,
tell us the name of your dealer,
stealin' pennies from dead men
are the
eyes full of lead men and
all dressed up in blue.
Society and solitary,
we can add a cherry
and call it a cocktail
but
I wouldn't drink too much.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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