Written by J H Martin @ A Coat for a Monkey
The breath
Can catch sometimes
The stutter
The stumble
The loss of any grace
I saw that before
In a station
Passed out on the floor
Smoking
Chemicals
Twelve-hour shifts
They are not good for the pattern
They upset the balance
LSD
Vodka
Council block
Friday
These weekends and weekdays
They go on for pure time
Like a two way mirror
In a cheap backstreet den
I can see
But I cannot be seen
The shadows are on me
The line cuts
And the hand betrays
I would laugh
But I don’t
The door is open
The lamp is burning
Text © J H Martin
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J H’s Previous Contributions To Edge Of Humanity Magazine
A Breeze Of Sorrow Passing Over Emptiness
“…you know you can’t sleep there” | Passages Of A Homeless Person’s Life
Life On The Irrawaddy’s Muddy Waters
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