It Blows.


I know it is in the mind,

these long dragged out

moments of disrepair, of broken

down machine inside fragile skin,

but that doesn’t help,

for those thoughts

of neglect, of bottomless

Universal humour

are always willing and able

to give me the broken eye socket,

the bleeding eye and bruises;

I know that, but still

the blows keep coming.


Ian D. Hall 2017