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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Aug 2023
Fifteen hundred decibels
In me sound
echoes around,
empty vessels
and all of that,
and I am used to it
when someone hits
reverberate
sometimes I cannot wait
and get to it myself.
and when I'm home
I moan and groan
ghosts do that
or don't you know?
Autumn will take
the bough will break
and the council will make
a charge for dragging it away.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
69/Here and now
(69/Here and now)
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Ken Pepiton
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