Cor Blimey!

i feel old
as old as the hills
as weak as a kitten
the material conditions
for economic uncertainty
have wore a hole in my smile
a hole in one tooth and out with the other
I’ll sleep on it but tomorrow at the crack of dawn
I’ll have to pick a side because there’s no room for a poet in poetry

"Is this a poem yet?"

bird

Tren on the @MarxistPoetry podcast