LEGION

I was instantly wedged in the
Space between the airwaves;
On the left and the right and the
Front and back that were
Being forced towards me at once,
And even the prone in this crammed land
Deserve a decent leg to stand on.

And if life is so quick these days that
I don’t even have room to stand for
A piss, let alone space to sit down
And shit, then a sorry that isn’t a sorry
Once said will not excuse the situation;
Turning out of the crowded lungs about
Me, like vapour, and permeating mine.

I have only ten words left to use, but
Am afraid of using them in the name
Of fruitless causes five times a day,
And it’s important that the slide into my
Forties is not lubricated by my own body
Fat, though now blinkered, I’ll at least avoid
Being hood winked by my countrymen,

Who’ve all given thanks and shaken
Hands with credit whilst being shot to
The corners of their once battened down
Home towns, because in the centres there
Are powder burns and instant outbursts, old
Canons to feed where death bears shiny and sharp
Greedy steel and a vacuousness, a lack of us.