I didn’t realise. I was a fool
Just another government tool
Beavering away, working hard
Until I got the pensioner’s card.

And now my ancient bones all ache
I’ll need NHS for my health’s sake
But a third of contracts in sickness’ fray
Like my local hospital, they were given away.

People’s views all treated with disdain
The Health Service reeling from such internal pain
While the wealthy go private, it’s simple for them
The ire of voters won’t be so easy to stem.



©Joe Wilson – The Family Silver Sale or The Stafford Hospital Lament… 2014

Look
no strings.

a
little victory
a
ship in the bottle
never at sea.

Dead or alive
each brings its own rewards.

and I'm in digital now
a fine
weave I believe,

a network
fine fretwork
and
it's okay by me.

Wednesday's that way
If you're heading that way
and that way's the only way
I swing.

Did you ever see or
stretch your imagination
to be
the bigger man?
to catch and embrace
that which you know is
the bigger plan
I did and do
you can too.

It all boils down to
a gooey syrup
don't be fooled by
the sweetness
the value
is not in the taste.

Anyway
it's
wirelessly Wednesday
and I'm tirelessly
beavering away
building a dam

seamlessly making
a man of the man.

What did I do on such a lovely day?
I
spent my time beavering away and
almost sank under the weight of
disinterest.

Time's moving on and I'm in the queue,
you can laugh but you're in it too
bending into the ending

like an origami swan sinking into
the sunset.

We're all crumbling like a 60's tower block
still thinking that we are the ones that
rock the casbah
blah ****** blah.

I hope the sun shines tomorrow
I hope I do too.

What do I do that I should unt
Not my head - Yes, my head is
The invisible visible arrounding
My Gordian not mind.

Beavering my dam thoughts
Roof of skull / Well of the
Spitting poison from the snakes
Of memory.

Dizzying array of new
Sensations that my
**** ******-head
(Low water deep;
Clammy dome of sticks as wooden sky)
Trapped am I? Trapped
I am anti-future, or
Post-passed past.

You: lye!
Me: Lyer.
Truth is the surface
Of water; Lies either/
Both above as below.

Steeling thoughts/Stealing memory;
Beavers build domes
Two pro Techt
Selves/Them
In the things of schemes
Am I the ****** or
Am I the dome whence
It hides?

Loving every other side
Of never ******-other felled
Gnawed tree
Outside the inside of my
******. Dam. Existence