Going for long walks, a timetabled loss
wishing for relief in this hard sun,
awards ceremonies under dint of industry
like to like seething in take-away glory
transport coldly selling the sporty spices
local honor dispensed with invaluable literature.
Looked at askance, prodigal offspring,
apologized for blows from far behind,
watching the pints accumulate, then drunk
knowing the situation before its fruition,
insanity to be unleashed on the world
kicked into touch, a job as good as any.
Travelling, promises of good behavior, not to wash
believing own stupidity a cause to redeemed
events as family days, drinking aside
easy on alcohol for fear of embarrassment
ironside soul hurting from loss of belief
advertisements showing and telling the wares.
Experienced, knowing what this is like,
dark individuals flicking through textbooks,
good as useless, earning another living
award-winning magic over perfunctory coffee
here or take-away, under pressure to perform
beloved, as always, in a collective soul.
Written by Patricia Walsh – Cork, Ireland