ChristopherMajor

I don't much care
about the famine in Sudan,
the war in Afghanistan,
or 'our boys'
brave and bold
and in Baghdad.
My next door
neighbour's recently died,
and this is
the only 'shit'
I can give.
See,
your leaving
recalibrated some scale:
disease, disaster, death,
now hardly register,
but a photograph
or sudden song
wrecks days.
Pain is in the ordinary :
a comb, a book, a smell,
the ' little things ' so inadequately
caught by this poem
with its weave of words......

~Spring 2005~

Bluff

2 hours after 'curfew', dishevelled and pissed,
fumbling a key at the lock
knowing only the cat'll
be glad to see me,
yet wearing the same expression
as when he:
craps,
kills,
fucks,
hurts,
anything .
Such a gift , and never a shitty 'hand' to face ......
never a wife........

Christopher Major

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