As Much as the Sun

I was born in a sandwiched class
with a lion and unicorn stamped on my arse
shame on those who think well of it

sitting around in a cenotaphed park
watching hangry dogs piss until it gets dark
I’ve made the least resentment of it

leaves drop like unopened letters
cock-ups and appointments with one’s betters
my hands smell of craving and chips

a note from a reasonable person
gives a pass on the service of my boredom
ink flowers merrily as mould

my shoes wait on the kitchen floor
I’m AWOL a lot and a ghost at my door
keeps memories cluttered inside

trains creak past my narrowed regard
doing nothing never used to be this hard
and love was more than four letters

get the days in some kind of order they say
be grateful for your ration of health they all say
and care as much as the sun

Sarah White


If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Sarah White   would be pleased to hear them.